What I Am
by Tatum O'Neill
Summary: After so much rejection from males and one true experience, a Degrassi girl begins to wonder if perhaps her distant feelings mean more than she ever expected… (violence, strong language, etc.)
1. Total Eclipse of the Heart

What I Am 

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This is the second Degrassi fanfiction I've started, maybe the first one I'll finish. In the spirit of Degrassi, the title is from an 80s song by Edie Brickell and the New Bohemians. The chapters will as well be titled in accordance with the 80s song rule. 

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**_Synopsis:_** After so much rejection from males and one true experience, a Degrassi girl begins to wonder if perhaps her distant feelings mean more than she ever expected…

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A/N: I don't believe anyone has done a fanfiction of this nature with this character before, but I haven't read the entire Degrassi section, either. In my story, at the end of _Should I Stay, or Should I Go?_ Manny and Craig did more than make out with each other. I'm not sure if I was the only one that noticed that possibility, but even if it's not true, who cares? This is fanfiction. Emma and Manny are sort of friends in this fanfiction, not so much as before. The show seems to give off that they care for each other, but their changes are making it nearly impossible to be the friends they once were.

And for the oblivious…

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Degrassi or any of the content wherein the show delves. I do not claim to, nor would I really know what to do with if I did. Check out Canada if you want to find the people who own the rights to it, though I don't know their names and I'm only assuming the Canada bit. 

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Chapter One: Total Eclipse of the Heart 

Manny looked at herself in the mirror and frowned. She should have felt ecstatic, but all she felt was emptiness. A void that she thought Craig created and only Craig could fill still remained open. She wondered if she'd ever feel happiness again, if even her Craig failed. It wasn't just what happened yesterday; she had been feeling this way all weekend. Ever since that night. 

She knew that she shouldn't feel this way, that her joy should be overwhelming. But it just…wasn't…and nothing was going to make her feel better.

Manny had followed Craig after a fight with Ash at Paige's surprise party. She was giddy, thinking _this is my chance_. They ended up at Craig's place, where he started to play his song to Ashley for her. She stopped him and they started to kiss. Craig groped her tentatively, wondering if she would protest. When she didn't, things began to heat up more and more until Manny, finally, awoke in his arms.

He panicked later on, told Manny he thought Joey might come down and see them together in quite a compromising position. Manny understood; she had to get home, anyway. So she left Craig's basement gingerly and walked home, hoping there wouldn't be any trouble. Degrassi was a nice place to live, but there was no checkpoint for insane drifters. They could come into town at any time.

Fortunately, she was safe. She thought at the time that maybe it was the nervous fear preventing her from her girlish giddiness, but even when she was safe at home, all Manny could do was stare at her ceiling in the darkness and think, _that was it_?

The next Monday, Manny had been making the same mistake all girls seemed to make, which was assuming Craig was now her beau. She had called him a few times over the weekend, trying to appear as interested as before. She thought she should be, so she was trying to make herself. She put on a happy face and told the great lie of how much fun she had, without specifics.

And then, she saw Craig. Beautiful Craig, with deep brown eyes and the cutest curly brown hair. Or, at least that's how she used to feel. 

But Ashley got there first and reconciled with Craig. They exchanged I love yous while Manny watched. She didn't know how to respond, so she just gave a look of mild emptiness, a dash of shock, and disappointed sadness.

More and more, Manny wasn't sure how to respond to things. Everything felt so empty to her that she had to think, _how would someone normal take it_?

Emma noticed, and Manny _knew_ she noticed. They had been very close once, and Emma could still read what Manny felt, even though sometimes she was a mystery. But she said nothing, did nothing. Manny saw the question in her eyes when she wasn't giving it enough thought to look like she was truly happy, but so far she managed to get away when she thought Emma was going to ask.

It wasn't the fact that Craig had made rejection a sequel for her; it was the fact that she just wasn't there anymore. She had liked Craig at one point, or so she believed. But she had liked a lot of people that it didn't work out with. At one point or another, she seemed to like absolutely _every boy_ at Degrassi—even Toby!

But nothing helped to quell this feeling deep inside her. A feeling that she was all wrong. She turned out wrong. There was a mistake in her that needed to be fixed—and fast, before anyone else discovered her little secret. 

Manny looked at herself in the mirror and thought about all the emotional maneuvering she would have to do today. All the little games she had to play. Everything she had to act out, everything she had to pretend to feel. All she felt was tired. Mental exhaustion from playing this particular game too long.

She felt it way back when she and Craig had their first—and only—date. Back when she foolishly decorated his locker. Back when she behaved like an absolute idiot because something was wrong inside of her, not realizing that she was making a mess of things.

She had tried too hard to be pleasing. On her date with Craig, she was practically hysterical with all this nervousness that Craig would figure out the girl he was with wasn't even there. 

And then, of course, the locker incident. Manny knew, somewhere, that it was a stupid idea, but she couldn't help herself. She _had _to have Craig. Even if it was unfair to him, to fall for someone so completely unavailable. She had to have him before someone else dug their talons into him. He was her best bet, the only guy in a while that actually made a tiny spark inside of her. Even if it was preconceived by her own distress at what was happening to her, she wanted it. She wanted to feel.

But it was moot. Craig found her immature, and probably psychotic after the way she acted. She tried to cling to him in the hopes that in time she would feel that fire she so deserved. But she went too far, too fast, and she lost him. Ashley, of course, snagged him up. 

Manny tried to resent her, but couldn't bring herself to. Craig was a nice guy all in all, and he seemed happy enough with Ashley Kerwin. 

_Oh, who would want to be Manny Manning, anyway?_ she thought.

She half-smiled. It was a good enough line. She might need it later, for Emma or Paige or whomever else brought up their failed relationship. 

"Oh, who'd want to be Manny Manning, anyway?" she whispered to herself. Manny sighed and looked for her backpack.


	2. Owner of a Lonely Heart

Chapter Two: Owner of a Lonely Heart

          Manny sauntered into school, trying to enjoy all the looks she was still getting. She had transformed herself to make herself more noticeable, more appealing. Unfortunately, it seemed that her extremity made it so most were too nervous to approach her, and she had heard some comments under breath of disgusted girls and boys calling her a whore. She wore a black mini-skirt with dark fuchsia and crimson roses, crimson stilettos, and a very low-plunging spaghetti-strap crimson shirt with black edges. The shirt was sort of a modern day Victorian and ended maybe an inch below her chest. She had on fishnet thigh-highs, but her skirt was so short you could see the tops when she moved.

          Manny felt mild amusement at all the attention she was getting, good and bad. If this was all it took to cause a stir in the Degrassi students, why didn't she just come out of the womb like this? She liked to be watched. Since her entire life was a performance lately, she thought, _why not get a bigger audience?_

Of course, she still felt a little sad about it. The only person that talked to her often was Sully, and Sully didn't give a damn about Manny. She knew that; she wasn't an idiot. He was her inspiration to change, but he'd never really be there for her. She lost everyone trying to give off the image of normalcy, everyone that meant something to her. Everyone she meant something to weren't really there anymore. She pushed them away, trying to up the stakes of her faked life. 

          She heard Manuela as often as Manny lately, and she didn't like it. She didn't _feel_ like a Manuela. She was Manny, always had been. Manuela was a name for someone more adult. Manny was a kid's name, and no matter what she did on the outside, inside all Manny wanted was to retain her childhood innocence. But Sully was the type of guy who demanded control. He was shallow and manipulative and hadn't a lot going for him. Not in any department. But damn if it wasn't perfect. To be the girl hanging off of Sully got you more inside the door than being the most talented cheerleader, which Manny believed she was.

          So her fake world became even more. She was lost inside herself; she couldn't find the real Manny anywhere, if such a person existed. With her fake personality and her fake style and her fake boyfriend and her fake friends and her fake emotions, everything was turning out all right in Manny's world. In a world where image was everything, anyway. Manny hated it more and more each day. The people had some semblance of humanity, sure, but they could so randomly turn cruel that she just wanted to duct tape their mouths closed.

          For all the people that knew her, there wasn't really anyone she could talk to. She was alone in this world, and she knew it. She knew everything would eventually disappear. Everything she held dear was running away from her. Paige Michalchuck was a poor replacement for Emma Nelson, even though Emma would become so domineering and caught up in her own little crises. Manny didn't really mind, she was just so lost inside she said things and did things that didn't fit with who she thought she was at one point. 

          Sometimes, Manny would watch Emma. Nothing overt, but she felt so isolated from her once best friend, she thought it fair that she could have some kind of clue about what Emma was doing. It was usually some environmental project or another, her usual drama with Sean Cameron. Nothing seemed to have changed in Emma. It didn't seem fair, since everything seemed to change in Manny. Manny knew she was hurting, she just couldn't _feel _it like she could before. She had started building walls around herself when people kept taking advantage of her, and now she didn't know how to tear them down. 

          When Manny sat down for lunch, she spied on Emma, as usual. She watched her talking vigorously with JT and Toby. She saw Craig and Ashley, hand-in-hand, approach Emma. Probably to say hi. Craig and Emma had become friendlier and friendlier with each other. Manny didn't see it as anything potentially romantic; not every girl and boy who talk have to want each other. 

          Emma and Ashley got deep into conversation, and Manny saw Craig begin to fidget. It was as if he could feel her eyes boring into him. But they were neutral eyes, like a wolf that didn't care which way something turned out. If you attacked, you'd die. If you didn't, he'd let you go. That's how Manny felt. Like nothing mattered.

          Craig looked around the cafeteria, trying to give off an aura of casual interest. But he was looking for someone, a girl. A girl he had hurt and kept hurting.

          He felt bad, and his imagination made him see Manny in several aspects, all heartbreaking. She was a nice girl, if it wasn't for Ashley they'd probably be together. But as much as he liked Manny, he liked Ashley a whole lot more.

          Still, he regretted what he had done to her. Not only what happened between them the night he and Ashley fought, but everything. It seemed to him that everything he'd ever done to Manny had been cruel. He didn't mean to, but that didn't make it better.

          Finally, he saw her. She was looking right back at him, unfaltering. Looking like she was sex personified, Craig smiled nervously and gave her a little wave. She nodded back at him, and something about her eyes made him wonder. Was it anger? Was it heartache? Craig just didn't know. He couldn't read Manny. Reading someone's emotions in their eyes was beyond him, more or less. But his mind settled on heart-wrenching anger. He didn't think he could feel worse, but there it was. 

          He loved Ashley, but her presence wasn't making him any happier. He just felt too damn bad. 

          _I never meant to hurt you,_ he thought. He sighed. _But good intentions don't really make a difference, do they?_


	3. Sweet Dreams

Chapter Three: Sweet Dreams

          Manny was at home, once again staring at herself in the mirror. It seemed she was doing it more and more as the days went by, but it wasn't a newfound ability to channel Narcissus. She wanted to see if she could see herself, truly see herself. So far, she hadn't any luck. She saw a girl, a girl she supposedly was, but she had to repeat in her head _I am Manny Santos, I am Manny Santos, I am Manny Santos_. She didn't recognize the girl in the mirror, though it was her. She didn't like the girl very much. 

          A rage started to bubble inside her, a rage she could not explain. She was infuriated with everyone, everyone who knew who and what they were. Everyone who had it easy, just being themselves. Oh, sure, there were the ones who played the game almost as well as she did, but at least they didn't have to go home everyday and stare at themselves, wondering just who was looking back at them. 

          She let out a muffled shriek and before she knew what she was doing, her fist flew into that mirror. It shattered, slicing open her hand. Her knuckles bled and already she could feel bruises forming. The pain was sharp and immediate, but not unwarranted, not something awful. The pain felt good; it made her feel almost whole again. She took a deep breath and looked at her bleeding wounds. Bits of mirror were embedded into her flesh, the tiniest shards. 

          Manny stood and walked cautiously to the bathroom. Her parents weren't there, but she couldn't think of a way to hide what she had done. No excuse would cover how badly shattered both the mirror and her hand were. The mirror was bloodied and ruined, and they would surely notice. She could clean the mirror off and wear gloves until she healed, but she didn't know why she should bother. 

          Pouring hydrogen peroxide on her hand, not even that could make her wince. Manny flexed her hand and formed a fist. It was still in working condition, though it hurt to give it much movement. 

          She wrapped her hand in gauze and went back into her room. Strenuously cleaning off the blood, Manny recalled that she had a pair of leather gloves with the fingers cut off. She smiled and searched for them. When she came across them, she encased both hands inside of them and once more flexed, made a fist, flexed, made a fist.  

          _Perfect,_ Manny thought. She would think of an excuse for her parents later, something noncommittal to be sure, but an acceptable reason for the broken mirror. After she cleaned the shards off the floor, Manny decided to tell them she was brushing her hair too hard and the hairbrush escaped, flying into the mirror. They'd believe it; they wouldn't want to think what other things could have happened.

          Manny went to lie down on her bed. She felt weary from the day's events, and decided to indulge herself with a nap, even if that meant she wouldn't sleep later on that night.

          Sleep sucked her under, and almost immediately she began to dream. They were the most beautiful dreams she had in a long time. In her sleep, Manny smiled. 


	4. Behind the Wall of Sleep

Chapter Four: Behind the Wall of Sleep

          _Manny looked into her eyes and felt herself smile. This girl, this woman, she was so beautiful. She pulled at Manny's heart, made her dancing on the inside. She made her giddy with knowing the woman was staring right back at her._

_          She couldn't have been that old, nineteen at the most. But she was so luxurious, not one soul could ever mind her age._

_          With a waterfall of reddish-orange hair, strawberry-blonde to most, and eyes so green any cat would be envious, Manny was enthralled. Her lips were full and soft, a pink not much darker than her pale white skin. Her figure was curvaceous, her style impeccable. _

_          "Hello, Manny," her Dream Girl said, and her voice was full of feminine sexuality and a touch of childlike innocence. Both husky and sweet, it was the perfect voice to match her perfect face._

_          "How…"_

_          "Shh, don't say another word," the Dream Girl whispered, putting a finger over Manny's lips. Manny swallowed and nodded. She wanted desperately to ask who she was, how she knew Manny, where she came from. The Dream Girl smiled again, putting off sex like a perfume. She moved her finger and leaned in, placing her lips so delicately where her finger once lie. _

_          Her hands entangled in Manny's hair, Manny felt herself kiss the woman back. Giddy with lust, Manny wanted to drink her in and wear her essence like a dress made just for her._

_          Manny wrapped her arms around the woman's neck, her hands thrust into the woman's hair, and pressed the Dream Girl closer and closer._

I love you,_ Manny thought._

_          The woman smiled and drew back. "I love you, too."_

          Manny shot up from her bed and felt sweat trickling down her spine, her forehead, all over. She began to shake and looked around. Night had set in; the click by her bedside read 11:52. 

          "No," Manny whispered. But she thought back to the woman, the woman of her dreams, and felt her heart beat a little faster, a little more lovingly.

          "Oh, god," Manny choked, and she began to weep. 


	5. They Don't Know

Chapter Five: They Don't Know

          All eyes were on her, as usual. They had been looking at her for quite some time now. But today it made Manny uneasy, as if they saw something there that they never dreamed off. She wished she hadn't started this image of herself as some scantily clad bimbo. She wished she were invisible again. 

          But unfortunately, even had she dressed in her old clothes, no one would ever look at her the same. To them, she had surpassed that role as the innocent Manny Santos. She was now Manuela Maria Santos, the unattainable dream goddess. The girl they all knew they could never take home to meet mommy and daddy, but all wanted for their very own nonetheless. But not for keeping, just for one glorious night under the sheets.

          Manny allowed herself a small smile as she thought of _her_ dream goddess. But then she paled, realizing what it very well meant.

          She felt positively ill. She knew something was wrong, but why _this_? Why her? She thought over and over, _why me_?

          She didn't think it was particularly wrong to be gay. When she discovered Marco was, it didn't make her think any less of them. But not thinking it was wrong and _being _it were two different things to Manny. She didn't want to be on this side of the spectrum; she _didn't want this_. 

          Everywhere she went, she thought people could see the difference in her. She thought maybe they had known all along, and realized that finally she was aware. She thought she was the last to know, but she prayed no one else could feel the turmoil raging through her. 

          _It was just a dream. Just a dream. Dreams don't mean a thing. So what if I dreamed about another woman? It means nothing. Everyone has those dreams. I am Manny. I like _men!

          "Manuela," a familiar voice said.

          Manny glanced behind her, and her heart sank as she saw Sully standing at his locker. "H-hey," she managed to get out.

          Sully lowered his sunglasses and peered at her. "Is there something wrong?"

          Manny could see through his façade. His serene apathy was like a mist around him. Nothing got inside. He didn't care for her. He didn't care for anyone but himself.

          The rage Manny felt the night before began to boil through her again, right down to her toes. She couldn't hide it behind cool eyes; she didn't have a thing to block them. She closed her eyes and tried not to move, but felt herself shaking ever so lightly. 

          "Manuela?"

          His fake concern, his aura of contentment, his beady little eyes staring her down. He didn't know what she felt, and what's more, he didn't _care_ what she felt. She wasn't even a semblance of meaning for him. No one knew. No one cared to know. No one cared about her, and it was _his fault_. It was all his fault, it had to be. His calm eyes, collected composure. Everything about him caused Manny to grow angrier. 

          "Manuela?"

          Her eyes snapped open, a fire within her growing stronger and stronger. Her face began to darken with her absolute fury. "What do you want?" she said, rather tight-lipped. She was still trying to gain control.

          "Manuela, you're being rather—"

          "—My _name_ is _Manny_. Or did you even bother to learn it?"

          Sully raised an eyebrow. "What's with you?"

          "What's _with_ me? Oh, you're just _so_ eloquent, aren't you? Dammit, Sully—"

          "Is this a PMS thing? Should I go away for a couple of days?"

          Manny laughed, a high-pitched bitchy sound. "Oh, you're just so clever, aren't you? _God_! You know what? You can just _fuck right off_."

          Manny heard a gasp from behind her, but she paid it no heed. She just wanted to smack him, kick him, tear him apart. Make him feel outside what she felt within. She hated him. It was unexplainable, indefinable, unyielding hatred. It was as though she became a different girl overnight, but that wasn't it. It was gradual, but no one cared enough to notice. No one but…

          "_Manny_!" a girl said from behind her. "What's gotten _into_ you?"

          Manny rolled her eyes. "It's none of your _business_, Em. Leave."

          Emma grabbed Manny's left arm and tried to drag her off. Manny shook Emma off her arm violently. "I said _leave_!"

          Emma stared at her, her mouth agape.

          Sully was glaring. "You little bitch. You think you can just talk to _me_ like that?"

          "Go to hell," Manny growled. She pivoted and was about to walk away, when Sully grabbed her right arm, very reminiscent of what Emma had just done. Emma, meanwhile, was backing off. A crowd had formed, and Emma was trying desperately to disappear into it. 

          "Don't you walk away from me!"

          Manny didn't shake him off as she did with Emma. Emma, she didn't want to hurt. Sully, well, Sully was in a league of his own.

          Manny whirled around, using his own grip to smash him right into his locker. "Don't you _ever_ touch me!" she shrieked. All her pent up rage came pouring out again, and Manny smashed her hurt fist right into his face. It tore open the scabbed over wounds, pressed the bits of mirror she didn't know never left right back into her knuckles, but she didn't care. Nothing mattered but hurting him. Nothing. 

          Manny grabbed his head by his hair and smashed it back into his locker. Before she could go any further, yet another hand gripped her arm. Someone pulled her back. She struggled ferociously, letting out her fury in little shrieks. Kicking whoever dared grab her, Manny couldn't hear his voice. He yelped in pain and let her go, and Manny turned around, ready to pounce, before she saw whom she had so blindly attacked.

          Mr. Raditch stood before her, wincing and rubbing his knee.

          She didn't care. Her face cooled down to neutral. Sully, so aptly named, had crumpled to the floor. He was close to passing out; a dent was embedded in his locker from when she knocked his head into it. Blood was forming on his lip. Manny didn't care.

          "You're suspended for two weeks, Manuela Santos. Get out. I'll call your parents."

          Manny laughed, the crazed laugh she had let loose minutes before. "How many times do I have to tell you people? My name isn't fucking Manuela! My name is _Manny_."

          She couldn't seem to stop laughing, though it didn't really matter. Nothing mattered still. But she was lighter, happier. They didn't know, and now all they'd think was she had gone insane. But even that didn't matter. These people, these meaningless people…what the hell did it matter if they thought any less of her? It was only high school. The so-called best years of her life…yeah, right. She didn't belong here. She didn't belong. 

          Manny knew as she stumbled, laughing, down the hall that Emma would follow. It was just Emma's way. Emma would follow, and Emma would destroy the first joy Manny had felt in a long time. But she didn't resent her for it. There wasn't enough of her left to bother.       


	6. Little Miss Can't Be Wrong

Chapter Six: Little Miss Can't Be Wrong

          "Manny!"

          Manny sighed and began to run. Of course, Emma gave chase.

          _"Manny!"_

          Manny ran faster and faster down the Degrassi streets, hoping to rid herself of her tail.

          "Manny, _please_," Emma gasped. 

          Manny stopped, very suddenly. Emma bumped into her, not enough to knock either of them down. She had slowed enough to prevent that, if nothing else.

          "Jesus!"

          "What's gotten into you?" Emma demanded.

          "Nothing," Manny sighed. "I'm the same person I always was."

          "_No_, you're not! You're swearing, you're beating up boys in the hallway…what is it, Manny? What is going on with you?"

          Manny stared at Emma, long and hard. Her eyes became more and more piercing, but Emma stood her ground, staring right back into Manny's dark eyes. Manny looked away first, taking in a deep breath.

          "A lot of things are going wrong for me, Em—"

          "No kidding! You—"

          "No. Don't interrupt me," Manny said, putting up a hand as if to stop Emma's words from reaching her ears. 

          Emma frowned, but she nodded.

          Manny looked around. "Not here. If you want to talk, let's go to the park."

          Concern caused Emma's face to wrinkle. "I guess."

          Manny nodded and began to walk. Emma watched her for a minute, but soon jogged to catch up with her former best friend.

          They walked in silence, Manny's trouble mind weighing over any levity they may have had. Emma felt awful that she never bothered mentioning the differences she had begun to see in Manny, and didn't know what to say. Manny, well, she didn't feel much of anything.

          When they arrived at the park, Manny nodded her head towards the swing set. She took a seat, and Emma sat in the one next to her. 

          "Well, what is it?" Emma said after the silence lingered.

          Manny breathed loudly. "It's hard for me to say it, Emma. I'm not very good with words."

          "It's okay," Emma said quietly.

          The silence began to stretch back over them. It was uncomfortable, and Manny didn't want to alienate Emma anymore than she already had. 

          "So," Manny said.

          "So."

          Manny let the silence loiter a moment longer, and then began to speak. "So, things have been…rough. I don't know who I am anymore. I don't know how I'm supposed to act, dress, feel. When I feel anything, it's just confusing," Manny looked over at Emma. "Can you understand that? I feel so lonely, even when I'm surrounded. I don't understand _anything_."

          "Everyone feels down sometimes," Emma responded.

          "No, it's not just that. And it's not just sometimes. I'm just…sad, mad, frustrated, confused…all at once. I feel like I'm all and nothing."

          Emma didn't know what to say, so she said nothing at all. 

          Manny sighed again, wondering if she should breach another subject, one that Emma may not be very comfortable with.

          "I want to be there for you, Manny. But I guess I just can't understand what you're going through."

          "Em, there's something else."

          Emma paused and stared at Manny, a little nervous. "What is it?"

          Manny bit her lip. "No, not yet."

          Emma nodded. "Okay…when you can tell me, I'll listen."

          "I know. And the Sully thing?" Manny felt herself begin to smile. "Well, Sully deserved to get his ass kicked, and so much more."

           "You've got to expect retaliation."

          "Oh, who cares what he does? I don't."

          "If you say so."

          Manny felt the anger come back. Nothing overwhelming, but it was there all the same. "What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean?"

          Emma froze. She stared into Manny's eyes and said, "I don't know what you're going through, Manny. I don't know much about your life anymore. But you're not really the type…the type of person who doesn't care what people think or do."

          Manny rested her head against the chain of the swing. "God, Emma. What kind of person do you think I am?"

          "I don't mean you're shallow or anything," Emma quickly said.

          Manny felt tears brim in her eyes. 

          "Oh, god, Manny. I'm sorry. Please don't cry."

          "It's not that, Emma. It's that…well, I've had some weird dreams. I've had some weird experiences. Craig and I…we…we had sex, Emma—" 

          "You _what?_"

Manny glared at her. "Don't speak until I'm finished," she insisted. She took another deep breath and continued, "We had sex, and I thought it'd be great. But it _wasn't. I felt…nothing. He doesn't make me feel the way I used to. And I had this dream. This dream with…another girl. It was another girl, and I wanted to be with her. Emma…does this mean…can I possibly be…" Manny drifted off._

          Emma stayed silent. It seemed like an eternity before she said anything to Manny.

          "You're not a lesbian."

          Manny blinked, and tears rolled from her eyes. "How do you know?"      

          "Because…it doesn't work that way. You like boys…you've always been the boy-crazy one, Manny. You don't just wake up one day and decide you want to be a lesbian."

          Anger boiled up inside her again. "And how would you know if I just woke up one day, Emma? How do you know _anything about me? This is the first time we've spoken, _really _spoken, in __weeks."_

          "I know because I know you!"

          Manny jumped up from the swing. "No, you _don't know me! You don't know a thing about me anymore!" She cried out in frustration. "Why do I even _bother_ talking to you? You're not going to listen to me! You're like them! All of them! Why did I think you'd be any different?"_

          She stormed off, hearing Emma call out her name. When Emma's voice became too close, Manny ran. 

          Eventually, Emma stopped following.

          _How dare she tell me what I do and do not feel?_ Manny seethed. _She wasn't listening. She was waiting for her turn to speak!_

          Manny glowered at the sidewalk as she rushed home. She didn't even notice her mother's car was there, until she saw two feet in front of her, and a belt in the hands of the owner. 


	7. Cruising for Bruising

Chapter Seven: Cruising for Bruising

          Manny looked up at her mother. "Yes?" she asked, the scowl still in her eyes.

          "You get in the house right now," her mother said, her voice shaking with rage.

          "Yeah, yeah," Manny said, walking past her. She stepped into the living room and immediately turned. "What's with the belt?"

          Her mother glared at her. "You need to learn a lesson, Manuela Santos," she growled, her accent growing thicker.

          "Yeah, like you're going to hit me. You never hit me," Manny scoffed. 

          "Don't you make light of this!"

          Manny laughed defiantly. "Don't you make light of this," she said in a mocking tone.

          "Why, you…" Amada Santos raised her arm and smacked Manny across the face with the belt so hard it immediately peeled skin from her face. Manny fell down with the belt, bleeding and clutching her wound.

          "Mother, you—"

          Amada raised the belt again and whipped Manny with it. She began to speak rapidly in Spanish, calling Manny a slut, a disgrace, a worthless daughter. Tears stung Manny's eyes, as sharp as the wounds that were slicing across her skin.

          "Mom! _Mommy_!" Manny cried out, curling into a fetal position. She began to shake with each sob. "No, mommy, no," she whispered over and over.

          "Go to your room," Amada spat. 

          "I-I—"

          "_Now!_"

          Manny leapt up as quickly as she could. She felt each bruise forming and knew she'd be sore for weeks. She limped upstairs to her room, sobs racking her body. Manny fell against the railing.

          "Leave my sight, Manuela!"

          A loud sob tore from Manny's throat, and it was over. She couldn't hold back the tears as she stumbled into her bedroom. Blood dripped from her wounds, showing that the bruises would be that much worse.

          _My own mother,_ Manny thought. Bitterness combined with sadness combined with an unbearable ache, Manny never knew her mother could be pushed so far as to beat her.

          She fell onto her bed and bawled. Her wails couldn't cover the angry thumping of her mother downstairs, and Manny tried to keep it to a dull roar. She cried and cried until she cried herself to sleep. If she dreamed, she didn't remember it.


	8. Voices Carry

Chapter Eight: Voices Carry

          Manny stood before the full-length mirror in the bathroom. She had only managed to rush into the room before her newfound fear of her mother made her paranoia reach new proportions. Her waist was a giant bruise, her face obviously beaten. Her arms and legs had minor scrapes on them from the belt buckle lashing into her flesh. She looked as rough outside as she felt inside. New tears threatened to form.

          "Javier, I don't know what to do about our daughter," Manny heard her mother's muffled voice.

          "What happened?"

          "The school called me today and told me Manuela had attacked a boy. They said she even attacked the principal and was cursing!"

          Silence then, and Manny felt her pulse in her throat.

          "Something needs to be done about this," her father's voice said, darkly.

          "I have taken care of it as best I could. But you did not see what she was wearing. Mi niña, dressed like a whore."

          Their voices grew softer and softer, all describing various ways to further punish Manny. Her eyes welled up, and she couldn't control the tears streaming down her face, stinging the cut her mother had given her.

          Manny crept back into her room, praying neither her mother nor father would hear her. Every sound, every breath seemed to exemplify her fear and grow louder and louder the closer she came. Finally, she reached her door and hurried in.

          But the last words she heard from her father caused Manny more panic than she thought she could muster after having hysterics for so long.

          _Perhaps we should send her to live with Viviana for a few months._

          Viviana was Manny's grandmother, a very traditional Catholic woman who was more strict than her parents combined, with a history of abuse to her children. Aunt Zarita and Uncle Vito had told Manny horror stories about the woman when she was younger. Zarita was Amada's sister, Vito her husband. Vivana had six children in all, and Zarita was the only one who got out well-adjusted. She had rebelled against her mother and run off with Vito, who came from a family of what Vivana considered pagans. Manny had met the woman twice, and both times wished she hadn't.

          She tried to think of ways she could change their minds, but she just didn't know what to do anymore. She had defied her mother, who was also a very strict woman, to her face. She had insulted both her parents, and now they were going to send her away.

          Manny could run away, but that would only solidify their decision. But if they chose to anyway, Manny didn't see a choice in the matter.

_          If they decide to ship me off, I will run away_, Manny thought. The thought alone comforted her, even with the acknowledgement that if she left, she could never come back. She couldn't see Emma anymore, couldn't see JT or Toby or Craig or anyone else at Degrassi. But eventually, she could write to them from wherever she ended up. Eventually, she could reunite with Emma and they could pretend none of this chaos between them ever happened.

          Manny's fear was so great, she forgot to be angry with Emma anymore. All she wanted was to be held. But Emma probably wouldn't want to touch her even if she was near. _After all,_ Manny thought, _look how she reacted._

          Manny began to cry again. 

          "Manny, we're going out," Amada called from downstairs. 

          "Do not call anyone or go anywhere," Javier added. The door slammed, and Manny began to sob loudly as if her heart had broken. 


	9. Regrets

Chapter Nine: Regrets

          Manny knew she had to cover her bruises. She had two weeks to heal before she had to go back to school, and she prayed it was enough time.

          Her mother and father had barely spoken a word to her since the day she arrived home after attacking Sully. The anger was still in their eyes, the rage she had caused them. She had her own now, but it wasn't enough to make her foolish.

          So Manny covered up, wearing long-sleeved shirts and jeans. She used her hair as a way to help cover her face, along with makeup. She tried her best to look and act normal, tried her best to reunite herself with her parents. 

          But nothing seemed to work, and the days dwindled on. Emma had tried calling a dozen or so times, but Manny always managed to avoid contact with her. Emma had even come over once, but Amada immediately turned her away. Not out of respect for Manny's wishes, but as a further punishment for Manny's mistakes. 

          _If she knew that's what I wanted, _Manny mused bitterly, _she probably would have sent Emma straight up here_. 

          Manny wished she hadn't tried to change her image. She wished she had never started that spat with Sully, or told Emma her fears, or challenged to her already angry mother. It wasn't only her feelings that she thought about; she really didn't want to disappoint her mother. But sometimes her own feelings just became too overwhelming to think about someone else's. 

          So she avoided Emma, and her parents avoided her. She saw no one, spoke to no one. Her mother never raised her hand in anger towards Manny for the time she was home. Every night Manny listened to her parents deliberate whether or not sending her off to Vivana was the right choice. Her father still seemed to be on that path, her mother seemed a little less sure. But it didn't matter, really, because if Javier Santos decided Manny was getting too caught up in herself, Amada Santos would immediately agree. For all intents and purposes, the Santos family was a patriarch, and Manny had no say both for her youth and gender.

          She thought about her decision to flee if it ever got worse. She thought about how it may affect others. But though Manny still felt empathetic towards others, she knew she had to look out for herself. Because no one else would.

          Manny knew in her heart that Emma was a good person, but she couldn't shake the feeling that when she returned to Degrassi, everyone would know the truth. Everyone would know her dream, and they'd never let her go.

          Manny decided that scenario warranted running away, too. 

          _I guess when you decide to leave, the excuses come more easily_, she thought.

          She still had vague bruising covering her body when her suspension was up. Not wanting to be too overt anymore, but realizing if she immediately changed back she would be regarded with as much curiosity as before, Manny wore a soft pink tank top that didn't quite meet the waist of her jeans—which were not low riders. She also put on a lacy white button-up shirt over the tank top and buttoned it halfway down. Manny looked at herself in the mirror, unsatisfied with who was looking back. Adding a fuzzy pink newspaper boy hat and pink sandals to her ensemble, she decided she looked fine enough.

          The makeup wasn't as tricky as before, since her face looked almost normal. The bruise was still there, a sickly brownish-yellow color, but the cut had scabbed over a long while ago, and all that was left now was a little pink scar that Manny hoped would soon disappear. She slathered her face in cover-up nonetheless and added a dash of pink lipstick here, black eyeliner there, some pink eye shadow, and mascara. 

          She feigned a smile. When it didn't look real even to her, she practiced and practiced until she looked almost genuine.

          "Well, here goes nothing," she whispered to her reflection. She picked up her bag and walked to school. Manny knew she had a week's detention after school; Mr. Raditch had called her parents and informed them that it was further punishment for her insolence. But apathy overwhelmed her senses, and not even the harsh light of the morning sun could warm all that was cold and dead inside of her. 

          When Manny was about halfway to school, she saw a wiry blonde girl standing on the sidewalk, staring at her. Emma wore a blue t-shirt and dark grey jeans, as well as a frown.

          "What is it, Emma?" Manny asked when she reached her.

          "Why didn't you call me back?"

          "I'm grounded. My parents are strict, remember?"

          "You could have at least _tried_," Emma insisted.

          "Why bother, Em? So you could chew me out? I told you how I feel, and you brushed it off. So what else is there to say?" Manny demanded.

          Emma grew quiet. Manny knew her well enough that she knew not to feel triumphant yet, but it was hard.

          "It was a shock, Manny. I don't know what you're going through," Emma began. She stopped walking and stared Manny right in the eyes, forcing her to stare back. Manny looked away. "I don't know what's going on inside your head, Manny. But I'll be there for you. I still care about you, and I still want you to be happy."

          Emma started to walk away. Manny stared at her for a few moments, unsure if she was supposed to call Emma back or not.

          "So…you're not mad at me?" she finally said, loud enough for Emma to stop walking.

          "Why would I be?" Emma said, not turning around. Her shoulder squared, her head held high, Manny knew the worst was still coming. Emma turned. "I'm not, but there are other people at Degrassi you're going to have to deal with."

          Manny paled. "You _told_?"

          Emma gave a small, half-hearted smile. "Of course I didn't. But that's not what's wrong."

          Manny raised an eyebrow. "What did I do?"

          Emma gave a surprised laugh. "Sully, remember?"

          "Oh," Manny said, her face crestfallen. 

          Emma walked back towards Manny and wrapped her arms around her. "It'll be okay. I told you I'd be there for you; I didn't just mean emotionally there when you need me."

          Manny laughed. "I know, Em. I love you."

          Emma hesitated. Manny felt her friend stiffen, and she pushed away.

          _Jesus_, Manny thought. "I'm not _in _love with you."

          Emma looked away. "I didn't—"

          "Yeah, you did," Manny said. She felt a hard knot form in her stomach, and she walked by Emma. Stopping, she said, "Don't think I feel any different for you than I did before I told you what was going on. I don't. You're my friend, and for that I love you. But I don't want to see you naked."

          Emma scrunched her face up. "Manny, I—"

          "I'll see you later," Manny said, and she kept walking. 


	10. What About Me?

Chapter Ten: What About Me?

          Manny walked into Degrassi, wondering what was going to happen to her. Sully was the perfect cover when she wanted to fit in, but now that she had so carelessly attacked him, she didn't think she would be good enough to get back into the inner circle. While she and Paige had started getting along well enough, they still weren't friends. Sully was a friend.

          Since she was a year younger than Paige, she may have avoided all the conflict that was going to stem from what she had done. She could even quit the Spirit Squad if she had to, but Manny didn't want that. She enjoyed being a cheerleader, enjoyed it more than almost anything else lately. Cheering made her feel free. Losing that, and all the respect and adoration that comes from it, hurt her. 

          But Paige was still the head cheerleader, and she still had the most power over all the girls at Degrassi besides the ones in higher grade levels. 

          She knew eventually they'd run into each other, but Manny wanted to avoid that as long as possible. She didn't really fear Paige; she was just tired of fighting.

          The day went by listlessly, and without incident. Before she knew what was happening, the bell rang for lunch. Manny stood up slowly and debated whether to go to the cafeteria or not. No doubt Paige and her friends would be there, and once they saw her, there was no going back.

          _No. I won't let them have power over me_, Manny thought. With renewed self-assurance, she squared her shoulders and marched towards the lunch hall. 

          When Manny arrived, every person leaning forward, every whisper, every glance made her feel as though the room was in an uproar over her. She knew logically that that couldn't be it, but she felt the weight of a thousand gazes upon her nonetheless.

          "Manny!" she heard a familiar voice call her name. Some of the chatter died down, and Manny knew her fears were accurate, and a good majority of the people had been discussing her presence.

          A pretty girl with long blonde hair began walking towards her. She was pretty, yes, but nothing overly special or beautiful. Not like Manny's Dream Girl. A fire was lit in the girl's eyes, and Manny swallowed.

          "Hi, Paige," she said, wishing she had never come back here. If she was told she was going to Viviana's at this moment, she may not have minded so much.

          "Manny, what on earth is wrong with you?" Paige seethed. 

          "Meaning?" Manny asked.

          "Meaning? _Meaning_? Meaning you attacked Sully! Meaning you've been acting so strangely lately. What, is this a Craig thing? Pissed off that he's back with Ashley?"

          "No," Manny sighed. She choked back a sob, but knew it sounded more like a laugh. "Who'd want to be Manny Manning anyway?"

          Paige looked at her in shock. "You're making _jokes_? This is serious. You can't just attack Sully like that."

          "Why not? Who the hell is going to stop me?"

          "Someone already did, hon," Paige retorted.

          Manny smiled. "Mr. Raditch? He won't always be there."

          Paige frowned. "Manny, what's going on? Do you _want to be over or what?"_

          "Who cares," Manny sighed.

          "_I_ care. You _can't do that. You're a member of the Spirit Squad. I let you in, let you become popular and let people see your talent, and you do _this_? Did you even __think about Sully?"_

          "About _Sully_?" Manny demanded. "Paige, don't be so shallow. Don't think for one moment that any of this matters. Yeah, I attacked him. But he deserved it. He deserved it, and so much more. If you want to live your life blind to what a shitty excuse for a human being he is, fine. But don't expect me to be your lapdog."

          Paige gasped. Several students, all staring at the two girls, echoed it. But Manny didn't care.

          "I don't know what's gotten into you, Manny Santos, but you can trust that until you find some shred of sanity, you're no longer welcome on the Spirit Squad."

          Manny felt her heart sinking, but she put on a brave face. "Oh, how will I manage? God, Paige. It's always you, or Sully, or Spinner, or anyone. It's never me. No one gives a fuck about me, so why should I give a fuck about you or your silly little pom-pom waving ditzes?"

          Paige glared at her. "Don't bother _ever coming back."_

          "Whatever," Manny said. She turned around and walked away. 

          Manny had little hope of reconciliation with someone such as Paige, someone she had a rocky acquaintanceship with to begin with. Her heart hammered inside her chest, and she wondered if Paige ever had to go through anything as hard as what Manny was going through. If Paige ever had a break from her perfect little world. With a dream house the envy of any Barbie, parents who seemed unable to ever tell her no, her perfect little friends and boyfriends, Manny felt a growing hostility within her. It really wasn't fair, that Paige got to be so happy when Manny was so miserable.

          She knew deep inside the recesses of her mind that Paige more than likely had her own problems, but logic wasn't her strong point.

          She wanted to lash out, but feared her parents' repercussions. 

          Manny cooled down her exterior. Outside, she looked fine enough. Inside, she was screaming.

          She wished she had been expelled. She wished she had the courage to run away. She wished she had never been born.

          She wished she was dead.


	11. Misunderstanding

Chapter Eleven: Misunderstanding

          Manny glared at herself in the washroom mirror. It wasn't what had just happened with Paige; that was meaningless. It was _her_. It was who stared back at her. An empty canvas of a girl. 

          She had never been known for being Manny Santos. She had always been Emma's friend. She was the sidekick of Emma Nelson, Environmental Crusader. The silly, unsophisticated, innocent little girl. The pseudo-girlfriend of Craig Manning, who, too, saw her as an immature wreck. 

          She had been the cheerleader, but it didn't pan out. Sure, she could do a flip, but she was no Paige Michalchuck when it came to getting herself out there. She was always the face in the crowd. Just another stupid little girl.

          She had tried dressing with the 'less-is-more' ideology in mind. So she became hot, sensual. She became someone people would notice, but for all the wrong reasons. She felt like the class whore, and most people probably thought it of her, anyway.

          Childish. 

          A baby.

          Overprotected.

          Emma's little pet.

          Dreamer.

          Impulsive.

          Weak.

          Pathetic.

          A loser. Manny felt she was a loser. Manny felt it all, all the negativity in the world, and she felt red-hot tears slide down her face. Her eyes shone darkly with her fury. Her face twisted in rage, and she wanted to shriek. She slid to the floor and hugged her knees, head down. 

          The washroom door burst open. Paige stormed in, Hazel and Terri at her heels. Manny felt herself smirk, thinking of Hazel and Terri as Paige's little lackeys and disdaining them for it, when only moments before she had thought the same of herself, but for Emma.

          Paige gave a little laugh. "Uh, Manny, what are you doing in here?"

          "It's a washroom. What do you _think_?" Manny scorned.

          "Well, you're sitting on the _floor, and with that I say 'ew', and you're crying, sooo…I'm guessing you're thinking of repentance."_

          Manny let out a short laugh. "Shows how much you know."

          "Why do you want to make life difficult for yourself?" Paige asked.

          "Paige, why are you even _talking to her?" Hazel asked._

          "It's high school, Paige. It's a meaningless four years filled with meaningless situations and meaningless people. It's all insignificant little moments we'll soon forget about. So _what if you don't like me anymore? You never did. So what?"_

          "Whatever," Paige said, rolling her eyes.

          "You're such an idiot," Manny mumbled.

          Paige glared down at her. "Pardon?"

          "Have you had one bad day in your life? And I'm not including hair here, _hon_," Manny retorted.

          Paige folded her arms. "I don't know what your problem is, Manny, but don't think for one minute I'm going to allow you to take out your little boy troubles on _me_. It's _your problem_. So deal with it." 

          Manny stared up at Paige. Her eyes were cold and hard, her jaw thrust out. "Are we done here?"

          Paige started to nod while opening her mouth, but something overcame her. Her face paled and she looked down at Manny in shock. Her voice quivering, Paige turned to Hazel and Terri. "Get out."

          "What?" Hazel asked.

          "Excuse me?"

          "Guys, please. I'll only be a second."

          Hazel and Terri looked at one another. Terri shrugged. They left.

          Paige made a disgusted expression as she kneeled down, but sat on the floor nonetheless. Manny had to suppress an urge to applaud.

          "Manny…is there something you want to tell me?"

          Manny was confused. Just a moment ago, they were arguing, and suddenly Paige was being nice? She figured it was either a good manipulation, or her face showed something more than she knew.

          "What do you mean?" she finally asked.

          "Don't play games. You…you're snapping at people, attacking them for no reason. You're hiding out in the girls' washroom, crying. You're changing your look—_again_—and you're acting like a head case. I should have known!"

          "What are you—"

          "You need to tell someone," Paige declared.

          "I—"

          "_No,_ Manny. You _have to tell someone, or he's just going to haunt you! Oh, god, who was it? Do __you even know? Oh, my god."_

          "Know _what_? Paige, you're not making _any sense! Did Emma tell you or something?"_

          "No, Emma didn't tell me. I can _tell. Manny, you need to go to the police."_

          "The _police_? I don't think it's a legal matter," Manny said, growing more bewildered by the minute.

          "Not a legal matter? God, Manny! Don't you—oh, what does it matter? _Tell_ someone!"

          "Paige, _what are you talking about_? You're just…you're just rambling and I _don't understand_. What do you think is going on?"

          "I know what's going on. You were raped, Manny. I can see it in your eyes. Oh, Manny," Paige said. Her eyes welled up with tears; and Manny just stared at her in shock.          


	12. Spirit Got Lost

Chapter Twelve: Spirit Got Lost

          "Paige, I _was not raped_."

          "It's okay, Manny, you can tell—"

          "_Paige_, listen to me! I just have some things going on that are…well, less-than-pleasant…but it's _not rape_. I've never been raped."

          Paige looked at Manny, her eyes glossy with unshed tears, and to Manny's horror she realized why Paige was reacting so strongly.

          It had been months ago, when Degrassi beat Bardell in a soccer match. Paige had gone after a Bardell boy, Dean. When Dean came back to Degrassi for a new match, Paige had tried to warn Manny that Dean was bad news. Manny told her she was jealous. Later, JT attacked Dean in the mascots uniform. Manny never really thought about it. Sure, it was weird, but Dean never called her and she and Paige soon reconciled.

          _Shit_, Manny thought.

          "Paige…like I said, there are things. Things I can't tell you, or anyone. Maybe someday, but I'm okay. I'll be okay. It's not rape, though, believe me."

          "Then what _is_ it?" Paige asked, her voice slowly catching up to normal.

          Manny sighed. "You wouldn't understand."

          "Manny, there has to be some explanation—"

          "Paige. Don't. You and I have been getting along lately, but please don't push me."

          Paige frowned. "Well, alright, Manny." She finally regained most of her composure. "But don't go after Sully again for _your_ problems."

          "I won't," Manny replied.

          "Good." Paige left the washroom, immediately hounded by Hazel and Terri's incessant butting into other people's business.

          Manny let herself smile a little. Paige, thinking she was _raped_ of all things. It seemed inconceivable. But she quickly frowned, thinking of all the pain that built up in Paige's eyes.

          _There's more to that girl than people know_, Manny thought. 

          "Doesn't matter," she whispered to herself.


	13. Is There Something I Should Know?

Chapter Thirteen: Is There Something I Should Know?

          Someone knocked on Manny's bedroom door. "Come in," she called, wondering who it could be. Her heart jumped when she thought maybe it was Emma. She longed for someone to talk to, and since Emma was the only one who knew her secret, Emma was the only one she felt she could.

          Disappointment coupled with fear overwhelmed Manny when her mother poked her head through the door. Amada Santos looked concerned, but Manny wasn't buying it.

          "Yes, mother?" she asked, tension filling the room like a flood.

          "How was school?" her mother asked carefully, shutting the door behind her and leaning on it after she entered the room. She crossed her arms, and words like closed off, brooding, swam into Manny's thoughts.

          "It was okay."

          Amada's eyes narrowed. "Any fights?"

          Manny swallowed. "One of the girls confronted me about…what I did, but no, nothing physical. I handled it."

          "With words?"

          Manny nodded.

          "Good." Her mother sighed. "Manuela, sweetie…I don't know what is going on with you. The fights, the defiance…honey, do you want to tell me something?"

          Manny felt her mouth dry. "Like what?"

          "There is something going on with you. I can see that much. What is it?"

          Manny looked into her mother's eyes, feeling tears well up once again. Her mother's square face was hard with disappointment, anger. She wouldn't understand. Manny made a decision. "Nothing, really. I don't know what came over me, mother. I won't let it happen again."

          Amada paused. Manny knew she wasn't accepting it, not really. But still she said, "Alright, Manuela. See that it doesn't." Amada paused again, not willing to let up so quickly. "But if there _is_ something, you can talk to me. I am, after all, your mother."

          Manny nodded quickly. "I'll let you know if I figure it out."

          Amada sighed. "I don't understand you."

          Manny managed a small smile. "I guess I'm a teenager after all."

          Amada shot Manny a look, and Manny understood it was not the time for semi-clever repartee. 

          "There's someone here to see you."

          Manny frowned. "I thought I—"

          "You're not allowed to see anyone, no. But I'll make one exception," Amada stared Manny down. "I may not understand you, or what you're going through, but that doesn't mean I'm going to let you get lost inside yourself. You may have your visitor, but not for very long."

          "Yes, mother," Manny said. "Is it Emma?"

          "No."

          Manny opened her mouth to ask, _who?_, when Amada left the room. She shut the door behind her and Manny heard her muffled voice telling a girl she couldn't stay for very long, she was very lucky she was able to see Manny at _all_, and she better not be here to yell at her daughter. 

          The door opened, and Manny leaned forward, as if this would bring the visitor to light sooner than if she just lay back. Slowly but surely, the suspense was killing Manny.

          Her mouth fell agape as the girl entered the room.

          _"Paige?"_


	14. Just Between You and Me

Chapter Fourteen: Just Between You and Me

          Paige waltzed into Manny's bedroom as she had done only once before, back when she and Hazel told Manny to convince Emma not to write an anti-cheerleading article for the Grape Vine. 

          "What are you _doing_ here?" Manny asked. What the hell did Paige want? Hadn't they already talked? Was it all a dream? Questions raced through Manny's head faster than she could even hope to speak them aloud.

          Paige stopped. She made a face at Manny's still-broken mirror and sat down on the seat next to her vanity chest. 

          Flipping her long, blonde hair back from her shoulders, Paige rubbed her lips together and brought her eyes up to Manny's. Once she made solid eye contact, she never looked away.

          "I know we talked before, Manny, but there's something you're not telling me," Paige held up a hand, "I know, I know, none of my business, right?"

          Manny opened up her mouth to speak.

          "Shush," Paige interrupted. "Don't say a word. I _know_ there's something going on with you. I may not know _what_, but there _is something_. So, are you going to tell me?" she paused a moment. "I know, I know, I _know_, not the most reliable person, but if it wasn't…what we talked about…then what is it that's making you act so _postal_?"

          Manny bit her lip. "I don't know if I can trust you."

          Hurt filled Paige's eyes. "Am I really that awful?"

          Manny was taken aback. She expected anything but Paige revealing she very well may be _human. _

           "It's just that…it's personal. _Really_ personal."

          Paige looked deeply into Manny's eyes and said, "You can trust me."

          Manny gulped. Maybe it was the stress, maybe it was the way Paige was presenting herself, maybe it was seeing a glimpse into what could be the real Paige…maybe Manny had just lost it. But whatever the reason, she let the truth come out long before she was ready.

          "I think I might be…gay," she said, whispering the last word as if it were a horrible curse. 

          Paige's eyes widened. A flicker in her eye made Manny's heart drop. How could she be so stupid? How could she tell _Paige_?

          "Oh," was all Paige came up with. 

          Manny lowered her head and prayed she was wrong about Paige. Prayed Paige wasn't the dishonest gossipy scumbag she had always known her to be. But as she hoped, she knew she was wrong. 


	15. Whisper to a Scream

Chapter Fifteen: Whisper to a Scream

          Manny went to school the next day, dressed ultraconservative compared to the girl she had become. A nice pair of boot cut jeans and a plain button-down white shirt. Hoping no one would notice she was Manuela, or notice her at _all_ for that matter, she walked into the building with her head down and her eyes watching her feet walk. 

          Someone bumped into her, knocking her books and papers from her arms. "Hey, watch it!" Manny cried out.

          The person—whoever it was, Manny never saw—walked right on by. Manny glowered at his back, but thought it pointless to amplify something so miniscule in the grand scheme of things. 

          "Aww, did widdle Manny-wanny get her books knocked downy-wowny?" someone said condescendingly.

          Manny glanced up and saw the face of Hazel Aden looking down at her. "Wow, resorting to baby talk, huh? You're really losing your edge," she said, standing up after she had gathered her belongings.

          "Gee, like I _so_ take the opinion of someone like _you_ to heart," Hazel sneered.

          "Someone like me," Manny said. It wasn't a question, not really. Manny understood what had happened. Paige took her moment of weakness as a way to get back at Manny for attacking Sully. It came as no surprise; she had expected it even before she let it go what she was…what she thought she was.

          "Yeah. A "Yeah. A _dyke_," Hazel said smugly.

          "Why does it get to you so badly, Hazel? Still upset that Marco would rather be _gay_ than be with you?"

          Hazel scoffed. "You're _so_ sick. I don't want to be a part of your little lezbo fantasies."

          Manny smiled coldly. "Oh, and I suppose _you_ want to jump every guy you meet, huh? Well, actually, maybe _you_ do. It must be _wonderful _validation for someone no one notices outside of Paige Michalchuck's shadow. But I'm sorry, babe, I have a little thing called _standards_."

          Hazel glared at her. "No one wants you here, Manny. You've _so_ worn out your welcome."

          "Gee, what are you afraid of? Someone being different from you, or are you just trying to get people out of your way for when you fly a plane into a building?"

          "I'm not a terrorist," Hazel seethed. 

          "But I'm sure you would just _love_ to be harassed for a circumstance of birth. Wouldn't you? Wouldn't you just _love it_ if people came at you from all sides, accusing you of things you didn't do, but someone of the same race did? Would that get your rocks off?"

          "You're such a loser," Hazel said, walking away.

          "Ouch, nice one," Manny mocked, clutching her hand to her heart. "How ever will I heal from that scathing remark?"

          Hazel whirled around. "Screw you!"

          Manny just smiled. She knew when she was ahead.

          As the day was drawing to a close—school time, anyway—rage was building up more and more inside of Manny. She had received insult after insult all day. There had been some people that ignored her, some that merely said nothing, some that offered a show of support, but even if she had only heard from Hazel and the rest of Degrassi broke into beautiful song and dance, accepting her for who she was, who she may be, nothing good can overwhelm anything bad, no matter how small a negativity you are infected with. 

          She ditched Emma and walked around, alone. She wanted to skip, but feared her mother's wrath. And so she wandered to the local park. She thought about going to the Dot Grill, but realizing that would be a mistake, she turned around and merely wandered the streets.

          Manny ran into several high school students along the way. Some were older and seemingly above such pettiness (though there were always exceptions), some were younger. Most of the boys still looked at her like she was their dream girl; only this time they could comfortably include _another_ dream girl into their twisted little fantasies. Watching someone else's thoughts on how she must be made Manny feel like a whore, even though she had only had sexual contact with one person, one time, in her entire life. 

          Manny scuffled past some grade elevens sucking down cigarettes as though their very existence depended on whether or not they had a nicotine buzz. And Manny felt herself asking something she never thought she'd do.

          "Can I bum one?"

          A tall girl with pale skin and auburn hair looked at Manny. "Sure," she said, reaching into her backpack and pulling out a cigarette. Manny smiled and accepted the offer, her newfound tool for potential early death. She thought of it as a passive-aggressive suicide, but it didn't bother her.

          "Got a light?" Manny asked, putting the cigarette to her lips.  


	16. Salt in My Tears

Chapter Sixteen: Salt in My Tears

          Manny learned the girl with the spiky auburn hair was named Theresa Scannel. Theresa was about a foot taller than Manny, stretched almost as thin as Emma Nelson. She had cerulean blue eyes and wore thick black eyeliner and dark red lipstick. Combat boots, black-and-white striped tights, fishnets on her arms, a deep purple tank top and a plaid miniskirt made her look more like a Hot Topic fashion drone than the individualist she was so desperately trying to convey, but it could have been the newness of her wardrobe. How it looked fresh off the rack rather than a fruitful search of the local thrift shop. 

          She was with two others. A girl named Janelle Greene with long, blonde hair and green eyes, and a tall brunette boy who was introduced as Theresa's boyfriend, Scott McGuire.   

          Theresa was eighteen whereas the others were seventeen. Manny thought momentarily about lying that she was sixteen, but figured it pointless. She admitted to being fourteen, and though they were initially taken aback—people had been telling Manny she looked older than that lately—they still seemed to accept her at face value. 

          The cigarette had been harsh. It tore through her throat and she had to fight the urge to cough, finally submitting to a fit, to the chagrin of one of her new acquaintances. 

          "First timer?" Scott asked.

          "We've all got to start somewhere," Manny said.

          "Aren't you a little young to be smoking?" Scott asked.

          "Aren't you?" 

          Scott smiled. "Guess you got me there…Manny, was it?"

          "Yup." 

          "Stand for something?"

          "Scott, why are you grilling her?" Theresa asked.

          "_Grilling_ her? He asked what her _name _is, for god's sake," Janelle retorted. 

          Scott's grey eyes met Manny's and asked, "So? What's it stand for?"

          "Manuela," Manny replied. "But I prefer 'Manny'."

          "I guessed that, what with you introducing yourself as Manny and all," he smiled. Manny wasn't sure whether she liked him, or wanted him to spontaneously combust. Which usually meant that if they became friends, they'd be inseparable. 

          Manny glanced at her watch and realized if she wasn't home in half an hour, she'd be busted. And she didn't want her mother to have any excuse. 

          She informed Theresa, Janelle, and Scott, and wrote her phone number down on Theresa's hand, the one she had hit it off with most. Theresa placed five cigarettes in Manny's hand and winked at her. "We've all got to start somewhere."

          Manny raced home, desperate to be there before her mother. When she got to the point where she could see her house, she was shocked to find Craig sitting on her porch, idly tearing the petals off of a flower.

           She started walking towards the door and said, "Craig?"

          He looked up. "Hey, Manny."

          She stared at him for a moment before sitting next to him on the stairs. "You shouldn't be here. I'm grounded."

          He sighed. "Okay. I just have to ask one thing."

          "What?" Manny asked, knowing full well what was coming.

          "Is it true, Manny?" Craig asked, standing up.

          Manny stared at him. "I can't read your mind, you know."

          "You know what I'm talking about."

          "Do I, Craig? There are a number of things I could mean. Is it true that you and I slept together? Is it true that after all this time you said you were choosing _me_ and then went right back to Ashley? Is it true you avoided me, glared at me, tried to make me go away by just _wishing_ it? Or maybe it's this, Craig. Maybe you heard a rumor today and thought that you were _so bad_, you 'turned' me. Is that it, Craig? You want validation that I was using you, or that you were just that disappointing?"

          Craig's face was ashen. "I never meant to hurt you, Manny."

          Manny rolled her eyes. "You are all alike. You think you have some great mystical power over me? I'm sorry to tell you this, but you're not the only factor in my life. You're not my personal Jesus, Craig. You don't control me."

          "I never said I did."

          "So why are you asking me this? Why have you come here, to _my home_, to try to get me to admit a fucking _rumor_?" 

          "I think I liked you better when you were nicer."

          "Funny. As I remember it, you didn't like me at all then," Manny stood. "Goodbye, Craig."

          She walked inside the house. He followed her in, as she suspected he would. "Manny—"

          "You're trespassing, Craig. I didn't invite you in. I could call the police right now and have you arrested. Get out."

          "But—"

          "Get _out_!"

          Craig looked down and muttered, "Alright. But…I'm sorry."

          He left before she could say anything, though she had nothing to say to him, anyway. Craig had played his part in her life, and now that he was vacating his position, he noticed her. Now that he wasn't going to be the only one she dreamed of, he wanted her to want him. It was so _typical_. He had this vibe of a nice guy, a sweet guy, someone you could talk to. Time had evolved him into something else, and Manny didn't like the new Craig very much.

          She didn't want to be mean to him, because she still cared for him. But she didn't want him to hang around her, either, _especially_ when her mother was so close to coming home.

          Manny stared up at the staircase and felt the tears staining her cheeks before she realized she had started weeping.

          Life was becoming such a mess for her, everything so jumbled and new. Her thoughts were new, her actions, everything. Even the Manny who dressed like a tramp to get people to notice her hadn't felt this way. This was a whole new spirit come to take over the empty shell of a girl who once knew what happiness was in its entirety, but now couldn't even remember it. 

          Manny went upstairs to her room, and she cried. 


	17. Make Me Lose Control

Chapter Seventeen: Make Me Lose Control

          Sitting outside on her roof, the cool night air basking around her, Manny stared up at the moon and wished she could escape. She wished she could shed her skin and be the old Manny. She didn't like this new girl, and she didn't know how to stop her from overwhelming who she had always been.

          Manny had always been sweet. She was naïve, she was annoying, she was hyper, but most of all she was sweet. She didn't allow others to push her around when the time came to stand up for herself, but she wasn't cruel. This new Manny felt cruel. She took that sweetness and murdered it, twisted its charred corpse into something harder, colder, meaner.

           She lit a cigarette, her second one ever, and hoped that by doing this, she could forget. Maybe if she started other habits, she could release the ones that had been forming. The old Manny may have confronted Craig, but she never would have been so cruel. But then, the old Manny wouldn't have gone after him, sought him out even when she knew he had a girlfriend, and slept with him. No, the old Manny would have respected the boundaries Craig formed when he started dating Ashley Kerwin. 

          The new Manny was nothing but a cold, cruel slut. 

          But she didn't want to be this way. She didn't want to be the girl no one wanted for more than an hour. She didn't want to hurt people, be intentionally cruel. She just wanted to retain that which made her who she was, and never grow up. She wanted to grow _down_. 

          The tears were rolling, Manny's quick sobs choking in her throat. She still held the cigarette, but no longer smoked it. She was crying too hard. As she was about to flick it away, Manny looked up. She stared down on it, her quiet tears making her eyes glisten. 

          Manny stuck out her left arm, and smashed the cigarette into it.

          The pain raced up, burns hurting so much more than cuts. It didn't go out, and so she kept burning, kept feeling the pain, kept gasping. It was a new pain, something to take away what she felt inside by making herself feel on the outside.

          When she was burning, she never felt a thing she didn't want to. She didn't mourn her loss of childhood, she didn't mourn Craig or Emma or JT or Toby or Sully or Paige or _anyone_. She was free to do what she wanted, but only when she was hurting. When the pain stopped, the world would come flooding back, however gradually.

          The cigarette went out, save one little spark on her arm. Manny looked at it, and crushed it with her fingertip.

          Her life wasn't hers anymore. She understood that. Everything was spinning out of control, spinning away from her. She wasn't Manny, she wasn't Manuela, she wasn't Emma's little lackey, she wasn't anything. She recognized nothing of herself, nothing of her past, nothing of her future. She didn't know where life was going, she only knew she didn't like it. 

          All the world was against her, and she needed the world back. She needed the world that was comforting. The world that cared. She needed the world that thought of her as its future, and loved her for it. She needed to feel that she wasn't just a dirty little tramp the world wanted to shut out.

          When she was younger, it felt like she was _the star_. The world loved her and promised to take care of her. Strangers would turn into friends; all the people would look at her with love.

          But the world shut her out. 

          It locked her out in the cold, dead of winter. 

          It gave up on her.

          She was no longer the future, she was the enemy.

          No more did people look at her and smile. They frowned, they grimaced, they looked at her in disgust. They wanted her to go away, desperately wanted her to disappear.

          When she was little, the world loved her.

          When she became a teenager, the world wanted her dead.

          And maybe that's why she became so overwhelmed. The world became a scary place, a place no one wants to live in. No one wanted to hear good news, so everyone was so overwhelmed with negativity they were too afraid to go outside at night. Too afraid of the man in the house next door. They made the world lose its innocence as Manny lost hers, and they grew more and more damaged by the day. 

          She never thought she would be the type to hurt herself. Cutting, burning, scarification…it was all an alien concept to her. She would wonder how, why, anyone would or even _could_ do that to themselves. How could someone sink so deeply into their own abyss, the only road they saw out was to cause themselves pain? 

          But she had lost control over her life. She had lost control over her emotions, her fears, her thoughts, her friends, her everything. Everything went haywire, everything she touched was ruined. 

          And she understood it now, at least a little. She understood it wasn't just about pain. It was about release. It was about control. She couldn't control her life, but she could control her pain. She couldn't release everything she felt inside, all her guilt and turmoil and horror welling up all the time. But now she could. Now she could find a way to release the pain. 

          It no longer had a hold on her.

          She was free to waste away.

          She was free to skip through a field of happy pink bunnies.

          She was free to do whatever she wanted.  

          She was free.


	18. Hurts So Good

Chapter Eighteen: Hurts So Good

          It was a sunny Tuesday afternoon. Manny was wearing long sleeves, feeling better than she had in weeks. She had missed school a few times. Her mother knew about it, as Manny had been faking an illness. But finally she had to go back. She didn't argue; she was still shaky around Amada.

          Once Manny had started burning, she did it more frequently. She had cut a few times, and probably would a few times more, but burning was just that much more painful. She preferred the seething, lasting, horrible pain that went right to her nerve endings and didn't let go. It was mostly her left arm, since she was right-handed, and rather than look down in disgust or horror, Manny thought the scars made it beautiful. 

          She waltzed into the school, feeling like she was on top of the world. She felt so happy, so pure. Everything was going to be okay, as long as she could avoid the pathetic little cretins who had a tendency to run into her.

          "Theresa!" Manny called, seeing her new friend. Theresa Scannel turned around. She had a white streak in the front of her hair now. Manny smiled. "Cool hair."

          "Hey, Manny. What's up?"

          "Oh, not a whole lot. How've you been?"

          "I'm alright. Just hanging out with Scotty and Nelle. You?"

          "I was at home for a few days," Manny said.

          "You sick?"

          Manny smiled. "Nah. But they don't know that."

          Theresa laughed. "That old trick, huh? Well, listen, Manny, it's been great seeing you again. But—"

          Manny's face was crestfallen. She thought Theresa and her could really be friends. "I understand."

          Theresa raised her eyebrows. "Understand what? I was just saying I had to get to class."

          Manny blushed. "Oh, I thought…well, you see…I…"

          Theresa smiled. "Don't be paranoid. I'll catch you later, alright? You can come with Janelle and me after school."

          "To where?"

          Theresa thought a moment. She shrugged. "Why bother planning?"

          Manny smiled. "Okay, I'll…catch you later."

          Theresa waved and dashed down the hall towards her class.

          "Who was that?" a male asked from behind her. "Your girlfriend?"

          Manny turned around and saw Spinner. She glared. "Why? You wanna watch?"

          He smiled. "Could I?"

          Manny rolled her eyes. "You're such an idiot," she said, pushing him with her shoulder as she walked away.

          "Hey, Manny."

          Manny looked to her left. Emma sat down beside her in the Media Immersion room. "Hey." There was silence. "So, you hear the news?"

          Emma looked at Manny for a moment. "You mean about you?"

          "Yeah."

          "I heard," Emma said quietly.

          "Then it really is getting around."

          Emma looked at Manny hopefully. "You want me to track it down, see who the source is?"

          Manny gave a small smile, remembering the time Emma had tracked down a rumor about Liberty, only to discover _she_ had started it. Accidentally, of course. 

          "Nah."

          "Oh, okay," Emma said.

          "I already know where it came from."

          "You _do_?" Emma stared at Manny.

          Manny knew what Emma was thinking. She thought Manny thought it was her. _Typical fears of the self-involved_, she thought, however unfairly. 

          "It was Paige," Manny replied simply.

          "_Paige_? How did—Manny, you told _Paige_?"

          "Moment of weakness. Anyway, it doesn't—" the bell rang, so Manny paused as people filed in, "—matter."

          "Manny, just because you had a dream doesn't mean you're a—"

          "Emma, _shh_," Mr. Simpson interrupted. He was still teaching class for however long he could manage, despite the fact that he had leukemia. He had been noticeably harsh to students lately, and most hadn't a clue why. It was better they didn't, but had they known they probably would have been nicer.

          Manny looked at Emma and shrugged, a little pleased Emma couldn't bring this up. Not yet. She didn't want to hear it anymore, didn't want to hear that she was just a besotted fool with some dream girl. She knew dreams didn't define her as a person, she knew that it was poor backing up. 

          But she had felt things for girls before. She thought it was just a friend thing, thought it meant nothing. She was boy crazy _because_ she didn't feel much for boys. She felt almost asexual, and realizing that made her something of a freak, she tried to make herself normal by becoming obsessed with every male that came along. 

          She had her suspicions in the past, but the dream just awoke something inside her she had been pleading would stay dormant forever.

          Manny felt as though she was drifting through life, from one moment to another, nothing good. She was too caught up in her own thoughts to listen to Mr. Simpson's bantering on about whatever the day's lesson was. 

          She hoped that in time, she would either disappear, or everyone else would. She wanted to be alone. She wanted her solitude so much it was almost palpable. Emma didn't understand, and she didn't want to. She accepted Manny, true, but she could never truly be the one Manny could turn to. She just didn't understand what Manny was going through, what Manny felt. 

          Manny wanted to stand, to flee. She wanted to run from the classroom and never look back. But in doing so, her parents would receive a call. One more excuse to hit her. One more excuse to send her off to live with Viviana.

          Her parents would never understand if she told them. They'd never accept her as she was; never accept her for being such a failure. She failed her parents by not allowing herself to be _normal_. 

          Emotions overwhelmed Manny, and she felt herself raise her hand before she knew what she was doing.

          "Yes, Manny?"

          "May I be excused? I need to use the washroom."

          Mr. Simpson nodded and motioned for her to take the hall pass. Manny grabbed it gratefully, and wandered towards the nearest washroom.

          Inside, she walked right into a stall. She rolled up her sleeves, took a metal barrette from her hair, and scraped it down her skin. Over and over until it drew blood, it caused such a stinging sensation that it almost hurt as much as burning. Little droplets of blood welled to the surface, and Manny smiled almost dreamlike down at her arm. She grabbed a handful of toilet paper and applied pressure to the wound, knowing that blood would certainly seep through just a long-sleeved pink shirt. She waited for it to stop, waited until it was far past the amount of time she normally took when she went to the washroom, but she didn't care. This was important, this was _so_ important. It held more for her than anything she could think of. It allowed her to feel, and she was a little in love with the pain. 

          Finally, the blood calmed down and Manny wrapped toilet paper around her arm so it would stay in place, rolled down her sleeves, and went back to class.

          She pocketed the barrette, not wanting someone to look at it and see flecks of skin, and blood, and pieces of Manny's soul. 


	19. Blue Eyes

Chapter Nineteen: Blue Eyes

_Dear Diary,_

_          I've been hanging around new people lately. Two girls and a boy. They're older than me, but it doesn't seem to matter to them. I like that, that they can accept me even when I'm so young. One of the girls commented that I have a "very old soul". It was nice._

_          I'm not going to say her name. In case this ever gets out, I'm just going to refer to her as "Blue Eyes". _

_          We've been spending a lot of time together. She gave me my first cigarette, and supplies me with them, too. She doesn't know about my arms. I don't want her to know, not yet. I think she'd understand._

_          I like her. I like being around her. She makes me feel happy when nothing else does. I feel jealous when I see her with her other friends. I want to keep her for myself, but I guess that's not fair. It's just hard. Everyday I wait for her to call; everyday I wait for her to come by. Everyday I don't spend with her is a day wasted. _

_          Mom has been a little nicer to me lately. I'm not grounded (hooray!) anymore, so I get to spend a lot more time with Blue Eyes. Mom doesn't hit me, and I guess it was only because I was such a bitch to her. I guess I deserve what I get, huh?_

_          Emma hasn't been around as much. I think she's jealous that I have new friends. Emma has always been and maybe always will be my friend, but I just have to take this road without her for a while, you know? Maybe I'm shutting her out, but I don't care. She has enough on her mind, anyway, so she shouldn't have to worry about me._

_          Blue Eyes. I can't imagine what life was like without her, and it hasn't even been **that long** since we met. A month and a half, I think. _

_          People have stopped being so mean to me lately. They mostly leave me alone. Sometimes I run into Sully and he looks like he's going to say something to me, but since I'm almost always with Blue Eyes, he shuts up. She's older, smarter, and tougher. _

_          I don't know how she feels about me, but I think she likes me—**like** likes me. I could be wrong. I hope not. I think I'm falling in love with her. For real, this time. Not like Craig or Sully or any of those jerks. She's my Dream Girl. No, she's better than my Dream Girl. She's real._

_Love,_

_Manny_

          Manny smiled as she thought of Theresa. They had been seeing a lot of each other, a lot less of Emma, and she didn't burn herself half as much now that she had a friend. A true friend, and maybe more.

She didn't know when she started thinking of Theresa as "more", but maybe she always had. Maybe Theresa felt the same way about her, and they could live forever in happiness.

          Scott and Theresa had broken up. According to Janelle, they did that often. They were more friends-with-benefits than a real couple, and Manny hoped this time it was forever. Forever, so she could be with Theresa.

          She wanted to spend every waking moment with Theresa, and every moment after that. She wanted to wrap Theresa around her, be with her forever. She wanted to keep a piece of her with her always, and all of her with her whenever humanly possible.

          Manny was in love.

          Manny relearned how to love.

          Emma was a problem. Emma, of course, didn't like Theresa, or Janelle, or Scott. But Emma always had a crusade, and when it came to her people moving on to other people, she always found something wrong with them. Sometimes she was right, sometime she was wrong, and this time she was _definitely_ wrong. Manny knew it, she felt it deep inside of her.

          She hid her diary under her mattress, and smiled as she turned off the lamp, Theresa her last thought of the beautiful day. She fell asleep, and the dreams were good, but not as good as Theresa. Theresa knew Manny liked girls, and didn't seem to care. She never expressed any indication that _she_ liked them, but Manny knew they were going to fall in love and live happily ever after. 

          It was how it had to be. 


	20. Caught Up In You

Chapter Twenty: Caught Up In You

          Manny got into Theresa's car, and they drove to school. They passed Emma on the way, Emma who was staring into Theresa's car, hurt on her face. Manny felt bad about it, but Emma just didn't make her as happy as Theresa.

          "So, what are you doing after you graduate?" Manny asked.

          Theresa looked at her. "I don't really think about it."

          "How come? You're so _close_."

          Theresa was silent a moment. "I guess it scares me. I've spent my whole life with my parents, my whole life taken care of, and now I'm about to be pushed out into the world. It seems very lonely."

          Manny felt her heart jump. "I won't let you be lonely."

          Theresa smiled, and it was radiant. "I know."

          Manny felt like dancing. She felt like standing on rooftops and screaming her love. She felt like the luckiest girl in the world. She had found her soul mate, her Theresa.

          Theresa did some things Manny would have once disapproved of. She smoked, she drank, she experimented in drugs. She partied until the sun came up, and then partied some more. But Manny was blinded by her affection, and wouldn't allow herself to see flaws in Theresa. To her, love meant the person was perfection. Even Theresa's flaws made her perfect, so Manny never saw them as flaws. 

          They quickly arrived at Degrassi. Theresa sat and stared at the building. It wasn't imposing, but it gave off a certain feeling of dread whenever you approached it. It was high school, and they were teenagers. It felt like prison.

          "Hey, you wanna do something else today?" Theresa asked. Manny had already opened the door and one leg was outside on the pavement.

          "Like what?" Manny asked.

          Theresa smiled. "Like _anything_ besides go to school?"

          Manny thought for a moment. Her mother had been nicer and nicer lately, and she didn't want to wreck that. On the other hand, _Theresa_ was asking her to go away with her for a while, and nothing was as important as that.

          "Come on," Theresa said, patting Manny's leg.

          Manny's heart beat a little faster. Casual touching always made her heart beat a little faster, and with it, she was taken. 

          "Oh, yeah," she said enthusiastically. She put her leg back in the car, shut the door, and they drove off.

          _She likes me. She really likes me,_ Manny thought. She felt like squealing, but that was more for when she had been with Emma. Theresa was a lot more sophisticated than Emma. She probably didn't squeal.

          They went to a coffee shop. Manny had a latté, Theresa a cappuccino. As they drank their coffee, they talked and laughed and had a merry time. Manny never remembered being as happy as this.

          "So, you asked me what I'm going to do. What about you? Got any big post-graduation plans?"

          "Not really," Manny admitted with a shy smile. "I don't like planning."

          Theresa made a mock gasp, and held her hand to her chest. "Land sakes! Manuela Santos, you may be a teenager after all!"

          Manny giggled before she could suppress it. Theresa smiled warmly at her. 

          "So I guess we're in the same boat, huh?" 

          "Looks like we're going to have to paddle with our arms," Theresa agreed.

          Manny leaned forward, and before she knew what she was doing—before she could talk herself out of it—she kissed Theresa. She kissed her with a passion she had never felt before, kissed her so deep she felt as though she was going to come out on the other side. It was so beautiful, so loving, that she didn't realize Theresa never kissed back. 


	21. Dont You Want Me?

Chapter Twenty-One: Don't You Want Me?

          Manny sat back, her heart fluttering inside her chest. Theresa's eyes were wide, and people were staring. "Manny, I…"

          Manny swallowed almost convulsively, terrified at what would happen next. "Yeah?" she choked out, her voice raspy with fear, and need.

          Theresa looked down into her cappuccino. Her eyes didn't look up, and several minutes passed that felt like hours. Manny wanted to run, but she was glued to her seat. Frozen, caught like a deer in headlights, Manny didn't know what she could do.

          "Manny…you're a nice girl, and I like you—but not like that. I don't think of you that way. I…I don't—I _can't_—think of _any_ girl that way." She looked up. "I'm sorry, but I never imagined…I never thought…"

          Manny stood up. Her chair crashed, but she didn't care. Tears welled in her eyes. "You don't…you…you don't feel it?"       

          Theresa couldn't meet her eyes, and Manny felt her heart die. "I don't."

          Manny wiped away a tear. She thought of a million things to say, and nothing. Finally, she turned and ran. She ran and ran, never looking back, never responding to Theresa's calls after her. 

          Theresa caught up, as she had a car, but Manny couldn't face her. Manny couldn't look her in the eye and realize it could never be.

          She ran into a patch of trees, where no car could go. She heard Theresa's car door slam, but it was too late. Manny could evade her now, and she would.

          She would never be happy again.

          She would never feel alive again.

          She would never feel love again.

          Manny ran until she couldn't hear Theresa anymore, and she brought out a lighter. She flicked it on, and pressed the flame to her arm. It hurt so badly, it hurt so good.

          She heard Theresa call her name a while later, after she had burned and burned her arm, then tore off the metal casing and used it to carve into her skin. Blood was dripping, drying, hardening on her flesh, fresh burns bringing new tears to her eyes. Theresa's coming was like a mockery, a mockery of her pain. Just one more thing she could never have.

          Janelle and Scott's voice sounded with Theresa's, all calling, "Manny! Manny! Manny!" The closer they came, the more Manny realized they could eventually find her. She stood and tiptoed away, careful not to make a sound. They had made a wrong turn, their voices grew distant, but she knew it could be done. Eventually, it could be done. 

          She went home to a mother and father who'd surely be angry with her. She went home to a life she didn't see as worth living. 

          Manny went home, and as she walked, she cried until she could feel almost nothing but the searing pain from her arms. 


	22. Shattered Dreams

Chapter Twenty-Two: Shattered Dreams

          "How could I be so _stupid_?" Manny whispered to herself as she drew closer to her home. It was dark outside and had started raining fifteen minutes ago. She hugged herself as she walked, her thoughts finally becoming more organized. "How could I _think _that? Oh god, oh _god_."

          She stared up at her house, no longer afraid of her mother, her father, Viviana, _any _of it. There was nothing else that mattered. She had ruined her chances with Theresa. No, she never _had _a chance with Theresa. The whole time, she was just fooling herself. Just allowing herself to be caught in a new friendship when she was so confused, so lost. Allowed herself to believe it could ever be anything more because she needed something solid, some validation that she was right, and everything would be alright. She made Theresa perfect, something she so obviously wasn't, because she needed someone to hold on to.

          Her tears were stinging her face, making it wetter than the rain could ever hope to. Violent sobs racked her body, and she fell to the ground. 

          "Oh god," she sobbed. "_God_!"

          Manny sat there, crying, as the rain grew harder and harder, as if sympathetic to her plea. 

          The lights eventually went out, and Manny laid there for another half hour, feeling sorry for herself. 

          Theresa never came to her house, as was her secret hope, and Manny stood up and walked inside, carefully, oh-so carefully. She didn't want to wake her parents, whom she prayed were asleep. 

          Manny walked straight into the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. Dark circles had formed under her eyes—whether from crying her mascara out or from crying in general, she didn't know. She stared at herself and felt hate, overwhelming hate. She wanted to destroy the girl in the mirror, wanted to grab her and pull her out and let all her fury be unleashed upon this stranger who wore her face.

          Manny opened a drawer and grabbed a pair of scissors. Initially about to slice into her arm yet again, she stopped. She looked into that face, that horrible face, the face that tormented her, mocked her, stole her identity.

          Manny looked at the girl that made the first move. On Craig, on Theresa, on everyone. The stupid little slut who had the delusion _anyone _could love her.

          Of course she couldn't have Theresa. Theresa was beyond her. 

          Of course her life had gone to hell. She deserved nothing more than to forever be in misery. She will never have her, never have the one girl she wants. She would never obtain the dream. Her Dream Girl, well, she was just a dream. A fucking illusion. Manny didn't deserve any semblance of happiness. She understood that now. 

          She raised the scissors from her arm, up to her shoulders. She grabbed a chunk of her curly black hair, and began hacking it off. 


	23. Never Say Goodbye

A/N: I've been thinking I may need to change the rating of this fanfic. It's been getting more on the graphic side of life. Any thoughts? 

Chapter Twenty-Three: Never Say Goodbye

          Someone was shaking Manny. She groaned in her sleep. The person wouldn't stop. She swiped at them, but they moved back in time.

          "Manuela, what have you _done_?" she heard, her mother's voice shrill.

          Manny slowly opened her eyes, wondering what her mother was talking about. Then she remembered: her hair.

          It was lying on her bed with her, strewn about carelessly, and so obviously not attached. There was some in the bathroom sink as well. A trail of hair had led from the bathroom to her bedroom. Some of it she tore, some she cut.

          Her hair was a choppy mess. She had cut most of it unevenly to her ears. Some chunks were still as long as ever, some to eye level, some patches completely missing. Not enough that she couldn't hide it, if need be. Her eyes were circled in black, smudges careening down her face. She had a small slice on her cheek where the scissors missed her hair. She looked and felt like hell.

          Looking into her mother's horrified eyes, Manny knew her mother thought she was sick, really sick. She saw the realization in Amada's eyes that maybe, just maybe, she had driven her daughter insane. 

          "Mommy," Manny whispered. 

          Her mother swept the longer hairs off of Manny's neck, and Manny knew she saw what she hoped no one ever would.

          Manny had tried to hang herself.

          Her mother's face became frozen in fear, and she was backing away. She whispered in Spanish. Her baby, her poor baby, had gone mad. 

           Manny coughed, her throat burning. She didn't know how to make a noose, and she really didn't know what she was doing when it happened. She tied a knot around her neck with the rope of her mother's bathrobe, but it came undone.

          Her head was throbbing from where she impacted with the counter.

          Amada's eyes reluctantly looked down, down at Manny's uncovered arm. Scars riddled it, hideous twists of skin. Some fresh, some old, some still seeping blood. 

          Mrs. Santos ran from her daughter's bedroom.

          Her mother had not been back to visit her. She heard screaming from downstairs, her mother on the telephone. She couldn't understand the words; it was as if she had forgotten English. Sometimes her mother lapsed into Spanish, but Manny couldn't tell the difference at this point. 

          Hours passed, and Manny made a decision. She had to win Theresa back; she _had_ to prove her love. 

          She looked for her scissors. They were gone; her mother must have snatched them up. Manny looked around, wild desperation controlling her thoughts.

          She looked at the broken mirror, several shards still clinging to the frame.

          Manny smiled.

          She looked at her bloody arm, and thought no. Not there. Too messy, it needed to be _perfect_.

          A thought struck her, and Manny pried one of the shards of mirror from the frame.

          She locked her door and sat on her bed. Manny lifted up her shirt, her untouched stomach bare to the world.

          Manny started to carve.

          She wore a black turtleneck and regular jeans. Her stomach burned in pain, but she didn't mind. Pain was good. 

          Manny looked around Degrassi Community School for her love, her one and only. 

          Her heart was pounding. People had been trying to talk to her since she arrived. It could have been the hair, the clothes, whatever. Nothing was more important than finding Theresa.

          She spied on Janelle's locker, on Scott's, everywhere. She had seen Theresa's car in the parking lot, so she knew she was there _some_where.

          Finally, after what seemed a lifetime, Manny found Theresa. Theresa was looking inside her locker for something, obviously tired. She had been looking for Manny all night.

          _See, she **does** love me_, Manny told herself triumphantly. Theresa would see her declaration, and she could finally admit their love was real.

          "Sweetie!" Manny called out.

          Theresa looked over, surprised. "Manny! Manny you're alive! What…what happened to your—"

          "Sweetie, it's okay! I know you're afraid, but look! Look, I _do_ love you!" Manny cried, raising her shirt only to reveal, to Theresa's horror, what she had spent all of yesterday creating, perfecting, in loving detail.

          On the left side of her stomach, it read "Theresa Elizabeth Scannel Forever" surrounded with hearts, stars, flowers…the lettering and the drawings were shaky and uneven. Manny's perfect declaration of love. The pseudo-love of a mind well and truly gone. There were no words Theresa could muster, and so she just stared in horror.

          "You don't like it?" Manny ranted. "You don't like it? Can't you see I love you? Can't you? You can't leave me, Theresa! You can never leave me!"

          "Manny, I—"

          "Ms. Santos? What are you—oh, my god," Mr. Raditch was stopped dead in his tracks, staring at Manny. She began shifting with discomfort. "You…you need to come with me," he whispered, obviously shaken.

          "No!" Manny screamed. "_No_!"

          She ran. 


	24. The Smile Has Left Your Eyes

Chapter Twenty-Four: The Smile Has Left Your Eyes

          "We have to send her away," Amada insisted.

          "I know," said Javier. "I don't know what has happened to our daughter. But she has to go."

          "It's too late to send her to my mother," Amada replied, her voice tired.

          "I know," he sighed. 

          Manny was locked in her bedroom. Her mirror had been dragged out of her room. So had her bed. Everything was gone. Her walls were blank, all her posters gone. It looked like no one lived here. She knew it had happened before she arrived in her room. Most of her things were in the hallway. 

          _Are we moving? Manny asked._

_          No, baby, we're not moving, her mother replied._

_          Am I going away?_

_          Yes. I'm sorry._

_          Where am I going?_

Manny had begun to fall back into herself. She remembered what had happened, but it felt like a distant dream. Like someone else had taken over her. She couldn't fathom what she had done, couldn't accept it as a reality. 

          She had broken down. She had broken down and terrified everyone around her. Mr. Raditch, of course, composed himself and called her home. But it was after she had already arrived to all her furniture, pictures, posters—all her _everything_—was in the hallway. 

          Slowly she began to arrive back into her own mind. Whatever had snapped inside her was fading away.

          She knew she had to go, she knew there was no getting out of it. They'd send her away. To somewhere that was probably worse than twenty Viviana's combined.

          Manny didn't understand what was happening to her. Sure, she had been depressed, and sure, she was confused, but she didn't understand just _how_ she could act like that. How she could have a nervous breakdown like she so obviously did.

          Her mother had come into her room half an hour ago with a pair of scissors. She thought maybe if she fixed Manny's hair, it would fix Manny faster. She had parted Manny's hair down the side so as to cover the spots where it was ripped out, and cut the rest of it to her ears. There were still spots where it didn't work, but it looked almost intentional for style rather than Manny's mental collapse.

          Manny knew her mother had read her diary. Read her life's story, how quickly it all seemed that Manny had changed.

          She knew the truth, that her "Blue Eyes" was a girl, and that Manny wasn't interested in the opposite gender.

          That alone was a mortal sin to her mother. She was strictly anti-homosexuality, but it seemed to no longer be the top on her list of things to chastise Manny about. 

          Manny realized her mother was sort of afraid of her. 

          She felt her neck, tears sliding down her face, and hoped it had worked, and this was all some weird post-mortem dream.

          "Her principal called again. Have you checked her stomach, Amada?"

          "I couldn't bare to," Amada said, choking back a sob.

          Javier put his arms around his wife. "I understand."

          Amada wept. She wept for her lost daughter, her lost cause of a daughter. Javier felt his heart breaking, but he couldn't allow himself to cry. Even now, he refused himself the privilege of letting out his emotions. Even with Manny so far gone, he couldn't do it. 

          Upstairs, they heard a window smashing. Amada looked at her husband in horror, and both began the race upstairs. Stumbling over Manny's belongings in the hallway, Javier made it first and burst through the door.

          But they were wrong, very wrong.

          Manny hadn't broken the window to slit her wrists.

          She was gone.


	25. Into the Night

Chapter Twenty-Five: Into the Night

          Manny raced through the streets, terrified at the thought of her parents finding her. Terrified at the prospect of going to Viviana's, going to a psychiatric hospital, going away and never seeing any of her life again. She felt as though she wasn't Manny. She was just some strange girl with amnesia who _thought_ she was Manuela Santos, but was really just doing a really horrible impersonation of her. She was imitating herself. She messed everything up for the _real_ Manny Santos. The real Manny was somewhere out in the vastness of the world, wondering just how everyone confused her with this lie of a human. 

          She had moments of near-clarity where she just didn't understand what had happened to her. Why she began smoking, cutting, dreaming about women. Why she fell so hard for a girl who so obviously just thought of her as a friend, little sister, whatever. 

          The darkness of the sky was suffocating her. Manny wanted to look up at the stars and shriek, shriek at them for what they did to her. What cruel hand of fate they dealt her. As if it was all a joke, as if her life was just some prank. Some way to amuse the stars, the sky, the sun. Something to watch so they wouldn't become bored with humanity and collaborate to destroy the planet. 

          Her breathing became faster and faster, and she feared she would begin to hyperventilate. Violent sobs threatened to rack her body, make her lose all will to run. To run to her freedom. She knew if she let her emotions win, she would collapse and never stand again. Never have the ability to pull herself together and taste her emancipation from a place that would never accept her again. 

          But it burned, burned deep inside of her. Her legs threatened to give out, her entire body becoming one large lightning rod for misery. Time was abstract, lost. She had no idea how long she had been running, but it felt like forever.

          Manny ran from her parents, her school, her friends, and the direction her life was taking. But more than that, she ran from herself. She thought maybe if she ran until her body gave out and the running killed her, she would never have to feel again. 

          She wouldn't have to be Manny.

          She could escape from Manny.

          No one understood. No one understood her need to be free. To run away from herself. No one would grab her hand and run with her, help her get away. They were pulling her back, pulling her into a person she didn't want to be. Their selfish desire for her misery, their false conceptions of who she was or should become, there was no one for Manny to hold on to and know they'd always be there.

          Her right leg finally began to shake violently, and Manny fell to the ground. She put her hands out in front of her, scraping both they and her right knee. A tiny shriek tore from her throat, and she wished for more. She longed to just _scream_, but knew she couldn't.

          The tears finally won, beat her, and she started to sob. Loud, pitiful sobs, as if her soul was trying to leak from her throat.

            Manny sat for a moment in the middle of the street, crying, but the realization struck that if she stayed, she'd surely be caught. She forced herself to stand and limped down the street, still crying, forever crying. Her vision was blurred and becoming less and less reliable. When Manny felt the ground change from pavement to grass, she collapsed again, and couldn't find the strength of will to pick herself up one last time. 


	26. Silent Running

Chapter Twenty-Six: Silent Running

          "Has anyone heard from her?"

          His face was solemn, and he couldn't bear to speak the words. Manny was gone, it had been nearly a week. She knew that, but still, she asked.

          Finally, he mustered the strength. "No."

          Though he thought she couldn't look any sadder, Emma's face reached a new stage of crestfallen. "Why are we just _sitting_ here? We should be looking for her!" she cried.

          "We have school, Em. We can't just leave. Not like…"

          "Like she did," Emma finished. JT nodded, slowly. "I just wish…I wish she had come to us sooner. Instead of running around with…_them_…instead of letting herself fall so hard. I wish she would have talked to me, you, _some_one."

          "But she didn't. We can't change that."

          Emma sighed. "I know. I just wish we knew where she was. If she's okay."

          "We just can't know. She's changed so much, so fast. We don't know what she's capable of anymore."

          "I think she's a survivor," Emma said. Her voice grew firmer, "She has to be."

          "Could be wishful thinking."

          "Don't _say_ that! I can't…I can't hear that!"

          "We have to face reality, Emma. Manny is gone. She may never be back. She may be…she may be dead. We can't help her anymore. Maybe we never could."

          "So you think the reason she didn't talk to anyone is that no one could have saved her?"

          "No one can save someone like that, Emma. She doesn't need a savior, she needs a friend. But she seemed to think we weren't good enough to be her friends."

          Emma stared at JT, a little shocked he could be so callous. "We were—_are_—her friends."

          "No, Emma. You were right the first time. We _were_ her friends. But we weren't who she needed."

          The words stung Emma. She didn't want to face the reality that when all was said and done, Manny never thought to come to her. That Manny couldn't trust her, not after how Emma reacted, not after everything they had been through. Manny _did_ trust her, she knew that. She trusted her enough to tell her the truth, but Emma wasn't one hundred percent with her, and that made Emma obsolete in Manny's book. 

          "We should look for her," Emma said again.

          "What good would it do? She has a week's head start."

          "That doesn't mean we should just give up! She's been having problems; she went a little…a little crazy. But that doesn't mean we should give up on her altogether! It doesn't mean we shouldn't try to find her, to tell her…to tell her…" Emma felt herself crying, and she tried to hold it in, to no avail, "to tell her we love her, no matter what she does or feels, how she acts." 

          "It's a waste of time," JT said. 

          "Don't be such a jerk," Emma growled.

          "Hey! _I _lost her, _too_. Don't take your emotions out on me!"

          "I'm sorry," Emma whispered. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

          JT knew she wasn't talking to him anymore. 

          Manny stumbled through the streets, trying to find a good hiding place. The sun was so bright it burned her retinas, the shine on the streets unbearable. She wondered how the world could go on, be so lively, when she was so dead inside. She knew if the world stopped every time she had a bad day, or anyone else had a bad day, it would spin out of orbit, but the change felt so overwhelming she thought it was unfair it didn't change a _little_ bit. Everything was different inside of her, but everything was the same with the world. She didn't like it. She thought this more and more each day, but it never changed the way the world worked.

          Putting one hand above her eyes in a futile attempt to at least partially block out the sun, Manny looked around her, wistfully. She had been traveling at least a week now, maybe a little less. She lost track of the days and had nowhere to cross them off so she knew what had passed. They all blurred together, memories felt like upcoming events, things that happened a moment before seemed like eternity. She was so lost inside herself, inside the world. She had nowhere to go, nothing to her name, and had no idea how much longer she could survive.

          She was hungry, so hungry. Sometimes she managed to get some change off of kindly strangers—always the ones who looked like _they_ needed to be asking themselves, never the ones who could afford it. She had to find parks to drink water from fountains, and sometimes it was so gross she wondered if she was going to get some infectious disease. It felt like she had been away for years. 

          She had woken up on someone's lawn just as day was breaking. Her mind raced to figure out where she was, why she was there. Memories came flashing back to her, and she knew she couldn't return home, at least not for a while. So she started to walk, and walk, and walk until she reached some sort of city. It was small as cities go, but at least big enough so that there were plenty of people to hide behind if need be.

          Surprised her parents hadn't found her sleeping, more surprised she managed to escape without any sort of trouble; Manny decided it meant no one was looking for her. Everyone was happy she was gone. She was a mess that no one wanted to clean up anymore.

          Manny sat on the sidewalk, contemplating her next move. At the rate she was going, she'd never get off the streets. She was too young to be hired for most places, too damaged for anyone to pay for her. She was surprised at herself, surprised that she could even _think_ of resorting to prostitution. The word itself sounded cold and hollow. A mean word for a mean world for a mean working environment. Manny didn't know what to do. Some disturbing old men may want her for sadomasochism, but she wasn't going down that road. Not yet. She still had a chance, a small chance, of something else working out. Secretly, Manny wanted to be saved.

          She sighed and stared into a puddle from last night's rain. It was drying up, would be gone soon. _I'm like that puddle_, she thought. She smiled into it. _God, that was pathetic_.

          "I feel responsible," Craig said.

          Ashley was next to him snuggled under his arm. School had ended half an hour ago and they were sitting in Joey's garage.

          "Why?" Ashley asked. She didn't have to ask what he felt responsible for; Manny had been the only topic of discussion at Degrassi for a while now. Even Paige felt bad, though she'd never admit it in public. 

          "I…I messed with her head. Did stuff to her."

          "You mean the locker thing? Craig, I don't think that was a pivotal point—"

          "Ash, _listen_! Firstly, yeah, what I said was pretty cruel. 'It's not the locker I don't like, it's you'? _God_, that was—"

          "_Craig_, the girl _obviously_ has other problems—"

          "Yeah but—"

          "You went out with her _once_. One whole date. That—"

          "But I—"

          "_Once_, Crai—"

          "_Ash_! You don't—"

          "One time does not mean—"

          "_I slept with her!"_ Craig bellowed.

          Ashley stopped, their train of interruption had not only gone off the tracks, but it had exploded into flames as well. Her face paled, and she stared into his eyes. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, she whispered, "You slept with her?"

          "Yes," he replied, his voice hoarsening. 

          "Craig, how _could_ you? When? Why?"

          "Paige's surprise party…the night we fought…Manny came after me. I thought we were broken up, I _swear_," he stammered.

          "That doesn't excuse it," Ashley said coldly.

          "Ashley, I—"

          "_No_, Craig! _No!_ I can't _believe_ you would…and with that little _slut_…oh, god, how can I say that about her _now_?" Ashley held her hand to her face. "God."

          "Ash—"

          Ashley stood up suddenly. "Stay away from me, Craig."

          "_Ash_!" he cried, beginning to lift himself off the couch.

          She held out her hand. "_Away_!"

          Ashley rushed out of the garage, leaving Craig alone. His eyes watered as he watched her go. 

          _Dad was right. I am a screw up._

          Craig began to cry.

          Manny jumped into a puddle, the weight on her shoulders a little lighter. Water splashed all over the jeans and turtleneck she had been wearing for over a week now. She smelled disgusting but no longer cared about such trivialities. She had tried to wash the bloodstains off of the inside of her shirt with puddles, but it hadn't worked very well, so she had a very stiff patch over her abdomen. The neck had felt like it was strangling her, suffocating her. One night she had found a park bathroom and took off the shirt. She managed to rip off the neck with just her hands and had been able to breathe easier ever since. 

          Manny tied her hair back with a rubber band she had found on the street. Her mother's selected fashion for her didn't work when she didn't have a brush, a mirror, and all the time in the world to style it to death. But she was tired of the staring. Her rope burn was disappearing, her arms covered, her hair tied back to hide the bald patches. She looked and felt awful, but at least her world and her appearance matched her nearly perpetual mood. 

          A few times she had heard sirens, had been chased away by bright spotlights. She didn't know if they were looking for her, though if her parents or anyone cared anymore there may be an all points bulletin out for her, but she didn't want to take the risk. Happiness was more attainable outside her childhood home. 

          She still had problems finding food, water, and shelter. She was still terrified to sleep in a dark alleyway, fearful that someone would kidnap her, rape her, kill her, or some well-meaning stranger would call Children's Aide, or anything of the sort. Solitude was working for her, however gradually. 

          She thought of Theresa now and again and her world came crashing down. All her work to be happier would shatter at her name. She was glad that of all the names she heard on the street, Theresa was not one of them. There was the occasional "Lizzie" or some other variant, but sometimes she didn't associate her once-love's middle name with that bone-crushing heart-stomping ache inside of her. 

          "You got a smoke I can have?" Manny asked a woman inhaling a Marlboro Light. Definitely not her favorite pick, but Manny was learning to take what she could get.

          The woman nodded and handed her one. Manny smiled. "Got a light?"

          It had been three days, and Emma was still on slightly bad terms with JT. They talked sometimes, but Emma refused to let him see inside her heart anymore. She was afraid he'd crush it with his impassive viewpoint on the Manny situation. _'Manny situation',_ she mused bitterly. _Like she's some sort of inconvenience._

          Emma regretted every harsh word she had ever said to Manny. Everything she said seemed to be the wrong thing, and now she was gone. Driven away by Emma, Craig, Theresa, Sully, Paige, whomever. Emma didn't know Manny's whole story, and at this rate, never would.

          There was tension between Emma and Craig. Two days ago he had lost Ashley for good, which Emma secretly thought he deserved, because he admitted what he and Manny had done. Emma no longer went to SITE meetings, so she didn't see Ashley very often, except in hallways. Nothing seemed as important as Manny, and she just couldn't bring herself to dig up that passionate fervor she had always had for the environment. She knew it was important, and she knew she should care, but everything seemed so trivial. She was becoming slightly obsessive with the concept of Manny. Constantly checking her e-mail, living by the phone, waiting for hours by the mailbox—with the portable phone, of course. They weren't even supposed to be friends anymore, but that was ridiculous. Emma would always, _always_, have a place in her heart for Manny. They had been friends for longer than Emma had memories, had so much history together. Everything around her could remind her of Manny. The smallest lyric in a song, the sound of birds chirping. Everything brought her a sensory overload. 

          But Manny hadn't contacted her, and Emma doubted she ever would. She knew Mr. and Mrs. Santos had contacted the police about Manny's disappearance, knew they themselves had searched high and low all night for their renegade daughter, but it all seemed so pointless. _Manny won't be found until she wants to be_, Emma thought futilely, _and that day may never come_.           

          Terror gripped every part of Manny. She was running, always running. But this time she knew she was being chased. He was calling after her. Demanding she come back.

          She had nowhere to run to. The shops were closed and there were only random apartment buildings. She didn't even know if anyone would be home.

          The pounding of his footsteps grew closer and closer. Manny felt a shriek claw its way up her throat, and he tackled her.

          "_No_!" she cried. He covered her mouth and ripped at her shirt from the collar, where it was already ripping from her removal of the neck.

          "Shut _up_!" he demanded.

          "_No_!" Manny struggled. He covered her mouth and pulled her up. He started dragging her away. Manny kicked at him, but stumbled. She hadn't the right footing. 

          She bit his hand. He cried out, "Ow!" and smacked her on the head. 

          She saw lights turn on in several apartments above her, and felt the slightest bit of relief. They would save her. They had to save her.

          She bit his hand again, and this time he let go of her long enough for her to scream, _"Help m—"_ before he hit her again.

          Manny sat in a police station, a blanket wrapped around her. Her left eye was deeply bruised. Her viewpoint of humanity had reached a new low.

          She had escaped her attacker, this was true. When she realized people were looking but no one was making a move to help her, no one was making a move to even get to their phones and call the police, she found a new strength inside of herself and fended him off. She even had a chance to knee him in the groin. When he was down, she fled. She wanted to slaughter him with her bare hands for what he tried to do to her, but she didn't want to waste her time. The people probably would have been as impassive as they were to what was happening to her, but with the luck she had been having, they would have taken that moment to intervene.

          She had read before about how people react strangely to violent crimes outside their homes. How in the 1960s a woman was murdered as thirty-eight people watched from the apartments, all assuming someone else would call. It took him maybe half an hour to kill her, and the man who finally submitted and called the police first called his friend to ask what he should do. She knew it happened, but she didn't think it did anymore. At least never to _her_.

          _People are so fucked_, she thought bitterly. He had tried stumbling after her when Manny was almost run down by a police car. She didn't know if it was a chance occurrence or if someone finally decided to call them, but there were no sirens, so she was betting on the latter. _Or maybe they were trying to be sneaky_, she thought. But she doubted it. 

          "So tell me again what happened?" 

          Manny sighed and stared at the policewoman in front of her. She knew she looked like a mess. And not just from the attack, but overall. She knew this woman would have the best intentions, the ones that meant they'd send her back to her home. She told them her name was Meghan Winters.

          "I told you. I was walking down the street, trying to get back to my house, when I saw him. I tried walking past him, but he began to follow me, _really_ close."

          "And that's when you turned around?"

          "Yeah. I asked him what he wanted."  
          "And what did he say?"

          "I _told_ you. He didn't say anything. He stared at me for maybe a minute, and then he walked by me."

          "And what did you do after that…Meghan?" the woman asked, just _oozing_ fake sympathy. Manny caught the hesitation the officer had before her pseudonym. Something was up.

          "Well, I really wanted to get home, y'know? So I waited for a couple minutes, crossed the street, and started walking. I walked for a couple minutes when my back felt tingly. I looked, and there he was, right behind me _again_."

          "So you ran."

          "Yeah. I ran. Look, can I go now?"

          "Wait. Tell me what happened, and I'll send you off in a squad car. How's that sound?"

          Manny sighed, beginning to feel nervous. _Why are they keeping me here?_ She wasn't sure how she was going to get out of this situation. If she rode with a police officer, surely they would want to see her go inside, or maybe come in. She had already told them her parents were out of town—which was true, anyway—so she wasn't sure what was going on. "Great," she said, wasting a fake smile on the officer. "Well, we got to this neighborhood, when he tackled me. He covered my mouth, but I bit him. So he hit me. I bit him again, and screamed for help. I saw some lights come on, but no one came down, and there wasn't a police car in sight. So I got away from him, on my own."

          She nodded. "A woman called the police. I believe they were trying to sneak up on him so he wouldn't get away."

          "Bully for them. Their little sneak tactic could have gotten me killed," Manny snarled. "You ever think sirens would have, oh, I don't know…_driven him away_?"

          She sighed. "I'm sorry, Meg—"

          "_Manuela_!" a familiar voice called from behind her. Manny's eyes widened. Her face paled, and she turned slowly, as if time were going to stop, and hopefully let her go.

          "No," she whispered. "Oh, fuck."

          Amada and Javier stood in the doorway of the police station. She was caught.  


	27. No One is to Blame

Chapter Twenty-Seven: No One is to Blame

          "Manuela, we were so _worried_," Amada said, running to her daughter. She tried to hug her, but Manny quickly stood, avoiding her mother's arms.

          "Don't touch me," she growled. 

          "Manny, I—"

          "Don't! Please, just _go_," she cried.

          "What is wrong with you, daughter?" Javier demanded.

          She turned to the policewoman. "How dare you call _them_," Manny seethed.

          "Now, Miss Santos, they are your parents."

          "They _beat_ me!"

          The woman looked surprised. "What do you mean?"

          "I mean I came home and my mother _whipped_ me with a _belt_! Why do you _think_ I didn't stay there?"

          "We don't…I would _never_," Amada gasped.

          "Mrs. Santos, have you ever beaten your daughter?"

          "Well, I…I _did_ hit her…once."

          "Once is too much, _mother_."

          The officer turned to Manny. "Tell me what happened, and we can get you some help. Maybe some foster care."

          Manny opened her mouth to speak, to pour out her soul. She closed it. _If I tell her, it will never end_. She thought for a moment.

          "Miss Santos?"

          Manny ignored the officer, pondering her options. She could tell her everything. The hopelessness, the cowering in her bedroom. How her mother smashed the belt over and over into her skin. How she spent so much time hiding, fleeing, escaping. How she was afraid, so afraid, that one day her father would break, and she'd never wake up again. The constant parade of fear that became her home life. Or, she could lie for her parents. She could say it was once, just once. Just a little slap across the face for a defiant daughter.

          She was frozen, trapped between two worlds. On the one hand, she had her parents, her life. On the other, she would start anew in a big, scary world. And she knew how to survive, but she also knew that the world was not a kind place.

          Just like her parents had become.

          Manny sank into the chair. "She slapped me once," she whispered. "Only once. It was nothing. I was acting out," her eyes watered and she stared up at her mother. "I'm sorry, mommy."

          Anger flashed in Amada's eyes, then sympathy. She leaned down and gave Manny the hug she had attempted moments before. "It's okay, baby. Everything will be okay."

          "Please don't send me away," Manny whispered, deflated, crying into her mother's neck.

          Amada looked into her daughter's eyes. "We have to. You have to go to the hospital for treatment. You're…you're not well."

          Javier looked at the policewoman. "Have you seen what my daughter has done to her arms? Her stomach? Have you asked her about her neck?"

          The officer looked Manny over. "I saw the markings on her neck. She said it was from her attacker."

          "My daughter, she…she tried to hang herself."

          "Her arms and stomach are covered in cuts," Amada contributed.

          "We need to find her help," Javier finished.

          The woman's eyes narrowed. "You certainly do." She looked at Manny, who felt her heart sinking one more time. "I'm sorry, Manuela, but you need to go to a psychiatric hospital. If this is true, you may have needed to for a while now."

          "I'm not crazy," Manny whispered.

          "Not crazy! Ha! Carving that…that _girl_'s name into your stomach? Manuela Santos, you—"

          "Javier, be quiet."

          Manny was surprised. Her mother sticking up for her, against her _father_? She looked at Amada. Amada gave her the smallest of smiles.

          The rest of the discussion Manny didn't feel involved in. Oh, sure, it was all about _her_, but she didn't have a say in anything. The police and her parents were teaming together to find a way for Manny to get 'better'. She still held the belief that nothing would help, and a small terror was forming inside of her as she thought about having to go back to Degrassi Community School when it was all over. But she made her decision when she lied. She made her decision. The question was, was it the right one?

          "It was, like, the creepiest thing I've ever dealt with."

          Emma stopped walking. She heard the words, though she wasn't sure whether or not she was meant to. She craned her neck and looked back. Theresa was not looking at Emma; rather, she was deep in conversation with a blonde girl Emma could only assume was the 'Janelle' Manny once mentioned. 

          "She seemed so cool when we met her," the blonde agreed.

          "Yeah, I _know_. I don't know what _happened_ to that girl, but jeez, man. Grab the damn clue phone, _psycho_."

          Theresa and the blonde laughed together. Emma felt fury rising up inside her.

          "How dare you," she said, walking towards them. "Manny is a _person_. How can you talk about her that way?"

          Theresa and the blonde looked at her with mutually bemused expressions. "Emma, huh? Well, look, _Emma_, your little friend there? She has some _serious_ problems—"

          "Problems _you_ created."

          "No, see. I _didn't_. They must've always been there, I had _nothing_ to do with her weird, clingy behavior."

          Emma glowered at her, wanting deeply to hit her. "I'm sure you did so much to get that point across to her. I know you knew what she was going through."

          "You don't know shit," the blonde interjected.

          "What're you talking about?" a brunette boy asked as he walked up to the trio. 

          "Manny," the blonde replied.

          "Santos, huh? That little fuck up?"

          "She's not a…_screw_ up!" Emma cried out.

          The three friends looked at her. They started snickering. "Screw up? Not woman enough to say 'fuck' yet? Don't worry, you'll get there," the blonde laughed.

          "Little Miss Wholesome," the boy agreed.

          Emma glared at them. "You know what? _Fuck_ you." She started walking away.

          "Ooh, she's growing a pair," the blonde shouted.

          "I can't tell you how glad I am your psycho girlfriend is gone!" the boy called after her.

          Emma never heard a word from Theresa, but assumed she was laughing along with her friends. At that moment, she hated them with a rage so pure, once it may have scared her. Once.


	28. Straight From Your Heart

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Straight From Your Heart

_Dearest Theresa,_

_          I'm sure your first instinct was to throw this letter away. I mean, who could blame you? I'm hoping that curiosity got the best of you, and if you're reading this, I guess it did. _

_          I wanted to tell you I'm sorry. I'm sorry for kissing you, for running away...I'm sorry for everything. I guess I've just been confused lately. About everything. And I met you, and you were—and are—so wonderful that I just kind of latched on you. I made you someone you never even dreamed of being, and I'm sorry for putting you in such a bad place. I don't know what's going on with me, what's happened inside my head that's made me turn out so wrong, but I hope one day you can accept me, and maybe we can be friends. For real this time. Not starting out as friends and then me getting some weirdo obsession with you._

_          I'm going away again, for a while. Indefinitely, they said. It could be a day, a week, a month, a year...I'm not sure. They didn't really plan this out. But it's not a running away thing again. It's a being taken away thing. Maybe you'd be more comfortable with that idea, I don't know where you stand anymore. You probably want nothing to do with me, and I don't really blame you._

_          I'll try to stop loving you. Maybe I'll succeed. I'm sorry if that makes you uncomfortable, too. Maybe I don't know what love is, but I think this is it. Maybe they can fix me. _

_          I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I hope you don't curse my name every time you think of me, if you ever can think of me. I hope my name doesn't make you start vomiting in disgust._

_          I don't know where I'm going with this. I miss you, but I know we can never be together the way I hope for, so I'm starting to hope we can just be together._

_Love,_

Manny Santos 

          Manny stared at the letter. She had written it so many times, her hand ached. Crumpled it so often that she had several paper cuts. She was in her room, which again held her belongings. She was supposed to just grab some clothes and leave, but she made her mother promise she'd get a letter to someone. She didn't tell her who, and didn't know if her mother would read it. She probably would, but Manny didn't care. As long as it got there. As long as Theresa knew she was trying for repentance, everything would be okay. As long as she forgave her.

          Manny couldn't find the words, the perfect words, the words she needed. She didn't even know if writing 'dear' or 'dearest' or 'love' was proper. But she needed Theresa to read it. She hoped she would.

          She sighed and folded it into an envelope. The paper cuts would worry her mother. But she was already going to a psychiatric hospital, there wasn't much more they could do to her. Except hit her, but that would defeat the purpose of trying to release Manny from all the pain she had been feeling.

          Manny thought about writing a letter to Emma, but her mother knocked on the door before she could think of what to say. 

          "Hold on one more minute," Manny called. She put the envelope into a larger one and wrote 'Emma Nelson' on it. Emma would get it to Theresa, even if her mother wouldn't. She had to trust Emma with this responsibility. 


	29. Goody Two Shoes

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Goody Two Shoes

          Emma glared at the envelope in her hand, as if it were the cause of all her problems. 

          _Theresa Scannel._

          An hour ago Manny's mother had dropped it off, a big envelope with her name written on it.

          _Theresa Scannel_.

          She wanted to rip it up, tear it open, anything, _anything_. Her anger swam up inside her, and she wanted to destroy this letter, this innocent little letter.

          _Theresa Scannel_.

          She had been so happy when Mrs. Santos had arrived, pleased that Manny had thought of her. Thought of her, wrote to her. Let her know she was okay. But when she eagerly ripped through her envelope, her heart sank.

          Another envelope. Another envelope with another name. Manny hadn't written to Emma. Manny hadn't thought of her at all, unless you counted the messenger.

"Jeez, Manny. She's so bad for you. Why are you doing this to yourself?" Emma whispered. 

          Behind the outrage, there was hurting. A deep ache inside Emma as she thought of how she had worried, how she had neither the time to sleep nor eat, constantly waiting by the phone for Manny. Constantly waiting for Manny, and when she was found, all Manny gave her was an envelope that said her name. There was no content, nothing for her. Nothing to quell her fear for Manny. Just a simple little envelope. 

          Emma felt betrayed, betrayed by her best friend. Betrayed by Manny. She had tried to stick by her, tried to let Manny know everything was going to be okay, at least between them. She had waited for Manny; waited so long to hear her voice, see her smile. And all Manny gave her in return was a letter…for Theresa.

          She thought about reading it. Or better, setting it on fire. She thought about destroying it and never wasting her time on Manny again. Emma sighed angrily and threw the letter behind her, letting it fall to the floor in her basement bedroom. She grabbed her bag and walked upstairs to leave for school. 

          Emma walked down the hallways of Degrassi, caught up in her own thoughts. Her anger was like a perfume, emanating off of her, if only in her own mind. 

          "Hey, Little Miss Save-The-World, where's your girlfriend? Aren't all you hippies lezzies, too?"

          Emma turned around. "That's the best you can come up with?" she asked.

          "Shut up," Hazel Aden glared.

          Paige Michalchuck stood idly by while Hazel, yet again, showed her homophobic colors. 

          "Honestly, Hazel, why are you so intolerant?" Emma asked.

          "It's perverted," Hazel replied. "It is _sick_ and _so_ wrong."

          "_No_, it's _not_," Emma protested. "She's different from you, from me, but so what? Everyone is different."

          "People are not supposed to be with the same gender. We're not built that way."

          "Hypocrite," Emma rolled her eyes. "You seem fine with Dylan and Marco. They're gay. But Manny? _That_ is what threatens you. Not homosexuality. Manny. Lesbians. What_ever_ it is, that's what bothers you. Why? Why do you think that it is threatening to you as a person?"

           Hazel's face was turning red. "You don't know anything," she said.

          "And _you_, Paige! Why is it _your _business about what Manny may or may not be going through? You don't even _like_ Manny. You've never liked her. You've never given her a thought except how her talent can make _you_ look better. But you—"

          "Don't bring _me_ into this," Paige interrupted.  
          "You brought yourself into it. You sought her out, _made_ her tell you."

          "I didn't _make_ her do anything."

          "You know what, Paige? I don't want to hear it. You manipulated her, like you manipulate everything, made her confess her secrets to you. And instead of acting like an even marginally decent human being, you pushed her life even further out, made it so there was nothing even a little bit good. You're just a waste of skin."

          Paige stared at Emma, her mouth agape. Her eyes were shiny with unshed tears. Emma didn't care. She walked away from Paige, glad that she could affect her that way. Glad Paige may see the error of her ways and try to change. But no matter what Paige did to try to make things better, the damage had been done.

          Emma's anger with Manny had subsided when she was faced with the two girls. She made a decision that moment. She would give Theresa the letter. Whether or not it was in Manny's best interest, Manny wanted her to, and she wasn't going to make Manny's decisions for her. If it turned out well, Emma would be happy for her. If it went badly, Emma would be there for her, try to hold her back from the depths of her deteriorating mind. But whatever the letter said and whatever Theresa's reaction, Manny needed Emma to do this for her, and Emma would. 

          "Am I a monster?" Paige asked meekly, staring at herself in the washroom mirror.

          "What are you talking about?" Hazel asked, touching up her makeup. She stopped and glanced over at her best friend. "Oh, my god. You're not feeling sorry for _Manny_, are you?"

          "What? No! Of course not. I was just…rehearsing. I was thinking about becoming an actress," Paige smiled, turning to Hazel. 

          "Oh! Well that was _really_ convincing. You should go for it," Hazel grinned encouragingly at Paige. "Be right back," she said, heading for one of the stalls.

          Paige nodded, and caught a glance of herself in the mirror. _Who am I?_ She wondered. "Emma was right," she whispered.

          "What?" Hazel called.

          "I didn't say anything," Paige quickly replied. 

          "Okay, sorry."

          Paige looked at her reflection a moment more. She grabbed her purse and left quickly. She didn't know where she was going, what she was going to tell Hazel, but at that moment she didn't care. _I've gone too far_, Paige thought. But no matter how she tried to repent, nothing could make up for what she had done to Manny. And pride was important to Paige, superiority one of her top priorities. Even if it was a lie, she didn't see how she could lower herself to admit she was wrong. Irrational, but true. 

          "It doesn't matter. She'll deal with it," Paige said to herself. But a tiny voice in the back of her mind told her that wasn't the case. Paige sighed. "_So_ not my problem."

          She walked all the way home and went directly to her room. Paige lay on her bed and stared at the ceiling. 

          She felt bad, but she also felt stupid for caring. Manny was Manny. Sure, she probably had some bad things going on, but that didn't mean she had to run away. It was stupid. Manny was stupid. She was a stupid little girl who ran away from home. Nothing more. They'd find her, they'd take her home, and all would be fine.

          _So where is she_? Paige thought. _Admit it, Paige, you did this to her._

_          No, I didn't._

_          Sure. Why did Manny run away, then?_

_          She probably has other problems._

_          Yeah, but where do you think they came from?_

Paige's internal conflict went on and on, though nothing could be resolved. She felt too guilty, yet too innocent at the same time.

          "No. I can't take it back, and there is nothing I can do to make it better."

          With that resolve, Paige sat up on her bed and looked at the clock. Four-oh-four in the afternoon. School had been out for a while. She picked up her phone and called Hazel to apologize for leaving. She'd tell her she felt sick. Hazel would believe it.

          Paige felt better, but there was nothing that could shut up the feeling that she had ruined a piece of Manny forever. 


	30. Love is a Battlefield

Chapter Thirty: Love is a Battlefield

          Manny stared at the oh-so white wall, wondering when she could leave. It had only been six days, but it felt like a lifetime. She had arrived, distrusting the facility to be of any help. So far, she was right. There were several other people there that may or may not belong, Manny wasn't sure yet. She wasn't feeling cynical enough to decide they all were crazy and she was fine.

          She had attended group five times, learned everyone's story. There was Valerie, her bulimic roommate. Chase, who had set his own house on fire and was sent to the mental facility instead of juvenile hall after his lawyer proved he was legally insane at the time—which, Manny discovered, meant he didn't know the difference between right and wrong. He unnerved her. There was Darcy, also a bulimic. Jean, a pseudo-gothic cutter Manny thought was just out for attention. She met Matt, a boy so depressed he tried to kill himself. Julia, yet another cutter, David, who seemed to be Sociopathic and apparently tried to kill a girl named Hannah, Jahnava, who had tried to kill herself with Pine Sol and had delved into cutting, and finally there was Mr. Boyd, who was the leader of their discussions. He was around twenty-three, and Manny wasn't yet sure if he genuinely wanted to help her, or if he was just like everyone else. She was betting on the latter.

          The past couple days when they tried to get Manny to speak, she just shrugged and said, "I fell in love." Jean responded with a less-than poignant 'there is no love', nor did the others really accept it at face value. Manny didn't feel like talking. She had nothing to say to these people, and no one could force her to speak. They could torture her if they wanted, but speaking was one of those things you alone control. Manny would just stare at the floor and listen. She wasn't even that interested in what they had to say, so wrapped up in her own problems. But she knew that was probably the case for all eight of her new acquaintances, and hell, probably even Mr. Boyd.

          "…so, I thought what better way to get skinny for the dance, right? I had never been all that pretty, but I _so_ wanted Hank to ask me…"

          Manny tried to drown out Darcy's voice as she went on about how she became bulimic. Everyone had heard the story before, even Manny. 

          "…but then it became a whole control issue. I couldn't not purge after _every_ meal, and it became so…"

          Manny rubbed her fingers lightly over one of her older scars. It sent a chill up her spine, and she looked up to see David staring intently at her. Manny's eyes cooled down, and she stared back.

          "…_necessary_ that I was, like, not _in_ control anymore, y'know? Well, so I…"

          A smile formed on David's face. It grew and grew. He grinned at Manny, gave her a wink. Manny mouthed 'fuck you' to him. It only made him smile more.

          "…just _couldn't stop_, and, like, it became _so_ much that my mom found me passed out and she—"

          "—It wasn't love," Manny said suddenly. She realized with a jolt she had spoken aloud. Everyone was staring. David was laughing silently to himself, and Darcy was glaring at Manny for interrupting.

          "What do you mean, Manny?" Mr. Boyd asked.

          Manny looked at him, and felt her heart sink. She had spoken. She had broken her nearly perpetual silence, and she wished she could take it back. "Nothing," she said.

          He frowned at her sternly. "Manny, you really do need to participate. What wasn't love?"

          Tears welled up in Manny's eyes, and she hated herself for it. Hated herself for appearing weak in front of these people, these strangers. She didn't know why she wanted to be so strong for them, but she did. 

"Yeah, Manny. Like, what are you talking about?" Darcy asked.

          "I know I want to hear her story," David added.

          Manny glared at him. Out of everyone, he was the worst. He made her feel like a freak. He had tried to _kill_ someone, and _she_ was the freak?

          "Manny?" Mr. Boyd asked. His voice was syrupy-sweet, like that would get her to talk. At that moment, she really didn't like him. 

          "You should talk. It will help," Valerie said. Valerie had been trying to get Manny to talk for days. Manny had overheard others asking her if she was always so quiet, or if it was just in group. 

          Manny blinked back her tears, though fresh came up to replace them. "It wasn't love," she whispered. "What…what Theresa and I had…wasn't love. It was…it was more like obsession. I wanted her. I had to have her." Manny swallowed, it was so hard for her to get this out.

          Valerie, Chase, Darcy, Julia, and Jean looked surprised. Manny hadn't mentioned the prospect of her lesbianism before. Only Mr. Boyd was aware, and he let his charges explain their scenario themselves.

          "You like chicks? Cool," David said, his never-ending smile firmly in place. 

          "I do believe that means you don't have a chance in hell, Davey," Jahnava said, smiling sweetly. 

          David glared at her. "Fuck you."

          "You don't have a chance with me, either, pumpkin," she said.

          "You little bi—"

          "Both of you, be quiet!" Mr. Boyd said, his voice louder than usual. They jumped a little, but quickly regained their composure.

Manny smiled to herself and glanced at Jahnava. She was one of the most beautiful girls Manny had ever seen. Of black, white, and Spanish descent, her skin was a light cocoa, her lips full and perfect. She had dark eyes and long, black hair. Manny thought that of all the people she had met in the hospital, Jahnava was the only one she could see herself as friends with. Jahnava looked over at her and gave a reassuring nod. Manny smiled at her, a small curl of lips, but enough that the girl noticed.

          "Will you continue, please, Manny?"

          The relief she had been feeling was quickly washed away, and Manny looked at the ground. "Maybe tomorrow," she whispered. 

          "Can I at least call her?"

          Emma had been talking to Mrs. Santos for nearly half an hour. Manny's mother wouldn't tell her where Manny was staying. Emma didn't even know what city it was in, let alone the name of the facility. 

          "She can have no contact with anyone, Emma," Mrs. Santos sighed.

          "But why not?"

          Emma had been fighting to see Manny, fighting for so long. Nothing was working, nothing got through. She was so desperate to see her best friend, but it didn't seem likely. She didn't know why her feelings had changed so rapidly over the last six days. She went from angry to sympathetic to fearful to dejected to desperate. She _had_ to see Manny.

          "_Please_, Mrs. Santos."

          "Not even I can see my daughter. _My own daughter_," Amada burst out.

          Emma paled. "I…I didn't know."

          "Goodbye, Emma."

          Mrs. Santos hung up the phone. Emma listened until she heard a dial tone, and then placed it down. She wandered to her room and sat on her bed.

          "Oh, Manny," Emma sighed. Her eyes filled with tears as she thought of all the times they had shared, both good and bad. "I miss you so much, Manny," Emma spoke. But Manny couldn't hear her, and Emma burst into sobs. 


	31. Sunglasses At Night

Chapter Thirty-One: Sunglasses At Night

          "So, why _Pine Sol_?" Manny asked. She and Jahnava were sitting down in the corridor. They weren't allowed to be left alone unguarded for very long, if ever, but the girls were managing. 

          Jahnava shrugged, a slightly embarrassed smile on her face. "It was around."

          Manny smiled at her. "You're a little silly, you know that?"

          It had been three days. She hadn't confessed her true feelings in group since. When her courage had been brought to the surface, it was smashed back into her, and Manny didn't feel like telling her story. Especially to David. Chase was creepy, but Manny simply abhorred David. 

          "So, what about you? Think you're ready to talk yet?" Jahnava asked.

          The mood shifted, and Manny felt the beginnings of anger trickle through her veins. Jahnava would occasionally hint about her curiosity, and Manny did her best to ignore it. She liked her, but she didn't want to confess her story. "No," Manny said flatly.

          "I know you don't want to hear this, but you have to start talking, Manny. If you don't talk, you never get out."

          "Everyone else is talking and talking and talking, but I don't see _them_ leaving anytime soon! Why would it be different for _me_? Dammit, I just want to go home!"

          Jahnava grew quiet. She looked down at her hands, locked together nervously. "You never will."

          Manny looked at her, shock overwhelming her face. She stood up and ran back to her room, slamming the door.

          A nurse appeared and was knocking on Manny's door, asking her what she was doing. The doors had windows, but Manny was sitting in front of it, hiding under the door, locking others out with her body weight.

          "Manny, what's going on?"

          Manny was rocking back and forth, covering her ears, knocking her head into the door over and over. The nurse was pushing on the door, and Manny felt herself sliding. "Nothing! _Nothing_!" Manny shrieked. "Leave me alone! I want to go home! Please, let me go home!"

          "What's going on?"

          "Manny's freaking out."

          "Bound to happen eventually."

          "Should we help her?"

          "That is one girl who can't be helped."

          "Hey, shut up!"

          "Pfft, what, you a lesbian too now?"

          "Leave her alone."

          "Um, I need to get into my room."

          "I think that will be a _little_ hard, Val."

          "So, what do you think is happening to Manny?"

          Soon all the voices, all the voices she couldn't differentiate, blended together, and all she could hear was her name being chanted, over and over, above a loud buzzing background noise of other conversation. Manny screamed.

          "Hey, Jahnava!"

          Jahnava looked around. Her eyes were distant. Manny hesitated, but continued walking towards her friend.

          "Where've you been?" Jahnava asked as Manny sat on the musty old couch. 

          Manny blushed. "Padded room."

          "Well, you _did_ knock yourself unconscious with all that banging your head on the wall."

          "I know," Manny whispered. She bit her lower lip from the inside and asked, "Is there group tonight?"

          Jahnava looked at Manny, startled. "You know there is."

          "How…how long have I been in there? There are no windows. For obvious reasons."

          Jahnava shrugged. "A couple days."

          "So that makes it…"

          "Eleven days in all."

          "Jesus," Manny sighed.

          "So…are you talking tonight?"

          Manny grew quiet. "I guess so."

          Jahnava gave a small smile and patted Manny's leg. "It will be good for you. Trust me."

          And strangely, Manny did.

          Manny breathed in, rethinking her stance on talking. She had been here for nearly two weeks and said almost nothing. She didn't want them to know her secrets, didn't think they deserved to hear them.

          Closing her eyes tightly as if she could disappear, Manny's heart sped as Julia finished her conversation with Jean about why they started to cut. It had already been commented—by David, of course—that if Jahnava joined and Manny actually spoke up, it would be 'cutter's night' at the hospital. No one was amused. 

          "Manny?" Mr. Boyd said softly. "Are you ready?"

          Manny opened her eyes and looked at him. So serene, so calm…Manny wanted him to feel what she felt and _then_ ask if she was 'ready'. She was incredulous at his phrasing, as if this was just some casual thing. But she had been trying to regain control of her emotions ever since the outburst with Jahnava and the two days locked in a padded cell.

          Manny swallowed. She knew she had to do this. She knew she had to. She breathed deeply once more, and opened her mouth to speak.

          "Ooh, she's actu—"

          "Shut up, David," Mr. Boyd interrupted. "Manny, go on."

          David leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed angrily. Manny couldn't help but feel a little superior. No one liked David.

          "It began with a dream," Manny said quietly. "It ended up a nightmare. I realized that I might…like girls. This was after…Craig, Sully, and all these other boys I pretended to like. I realized why I felt so empty. And when I knew…I freaked. I attacked Sully in the hallway. Emma, my best friend, came after me. I told her. She didn't take it well. Actually, I just assumed she didn't, so I yelled at her.

          "There's this girl, Paige. Well, Paige and I are on the Spirit Squad together. She thought I had been raped. I told her the truth, and like I knew she would, she told _everyone_.

          "People started attacking me, mocking me, trying to bring me down. I don't remember when I started cutting, but I remember when I started smoking. It was because of her.

          "Her name was Theresa, and I thought she was perfect. I knew she wasn't, some part of me _knew_ that, but the rest of me refused to listen," Manny grew quiet. A tear had trickled down her cheek at the thought of Theresa, and she sniffled.

          "It's okay, Manny. You can continue, or you can stop here and we'll pick it up another time," Mr. Boyd offered.

          "No, if I don't talk now, I'll never talk," Manny protested. She took a moment to regain her composure. "Theresa…Theresa is older. She liked me. But she _liked_ me, she wasn't…she's not like me. But I didn't care. I made her into something she could never dream of being. My ideal. It all went to hell from there."

          "What happened?" Jahnava asked softly. Everyone save David was leaning forward. All were curious about Manny. No one really knew her story, not even Jahnava.

          Manny wiped away another tear, but more quickly followed. She looked down at the floor. "I guess I hadn't started cutting yet. Actually, it started out with burning my arms with cigarettes. Theresa made the pain go away better than anything else, though. But she wasn't always around. 

          "And then when I started, I couldn't stop. It became a release, but not just for pain. For everything, but I mostly just felt pain inside. I was so lost inside myself, and no one was coming to find me. I was drowning in me, but no one seemed to really care. Maybe that's why I attached myself to the first girl that came along.

          "I know it wasn't love now. I can understand that. I understand that when I kissed her, she didn't know that I wanted to. I understand that I made her an ideal. I never let her be the girl she was without adding the girl I needed her to be. And when I ran away the second time, I understand why she didn't come after me this time.

          "I scared her. I must have. I was—_am_—so messed up inside, and she couldn't feel it. I blinded myself to her because I needed her to be someone else." Manny looked up at Mr. Boyd. She stared for a moment, quietly, tears streaming down her face. "I don't want to talk anymore," she whispered.

          He smiled at her. "It's alright, Manny. You did well today."

          Manny nodded. 

          "Matt, would you like to…"

          Mr. Boyd's voice drifted off as Manny stared harder at the floor. She felt light-headed, as though she would pass out any moment now. Talking about it had taken more energy than she realized, admitting her perspective was blocked off by some unseen force had taken a lot out of her. Manny understood that she had created it all in her mind, she understood that nothing in her world as of late had been in reality's spectrum. But it didn't make it any easier. 


	32. Life in One Day

Chapter Thirty-Two: Life in One Day

          Manny lay on her hospital bed, staring at the scars on her arm. There was a tiny bruise forming underneath her left wrist. It wasn't self-inflicted; the previous night she had woken up to Valerie shoving a finger down her throat. Manny tried to stop her. Valerie fought back. It was their little secret.

          Unfortunately, Manny's bruises were much more evident than Valerie's vomiting, and she knew when Mr. Boyd noticed, he'd turn her in. It was protocol. This world was strictly black and white, and Manny knew it could cost her dearly.

          _This place is so fucked,_ Manny thought angrily. She was going to be punished, she knew it! For helping another patient, for promising to keep a secret, she was going to be sentenced to live forever in this whitewashed world. She knew it. It was just like Jahnava told her. It's easy to be committed. It's damn near impossible to get out.

          Manny wished Jahnava would sneak into her room. She wished Emma would magically appear. She wished Theresa would find a way to walk through walls. She wanted someone to rescue her so badly she could taste the freedom already.

          _It will never happen_, she decided. She hadn't heard from Emma the entire time she'd been there. Even Emma, eventually, gave up on Manny.

          She felt a cry of frustrated rage slide up her throat, but she clamped her teeth down. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction. In here, they expected you to be crazy. But playing the role of crazy-chic was no way to get out. Manny was learning that.

          "I feel like a pizza," Valerie said, interrupting Manny's thoughts. "Stuffed crust, smothered in cheese and pepperoni. Mmm."

          "You'd just throw it up, anyway," Manny grumbled in reply. 

          Valerie smiled. "I suppose that's the point."

          "Val," Manny said, turning on her side to face the frail girl, "I don't get you. You're sick. You know you're sick. But you also _made yourself_ this way. You want to be sick on two fronts. Why?"

          Valerie stared at Manny, startled. "This ain't group, hon."

          "You always wanted to talk when it was about me," Manny reminded her. "Why don't you take your own advice? Talk to me. Please, talk to me."

          Valerie paused. "Because I don't want to. If you'll excuse me," she said flippantly, pushing herself off of her bed, "I'm hungry."

          Manny watched her exit their co-habitat. "I stand corrected," she mumbled sarcastically. "Hypocrite."

          Without intention, Manny found herself looking down on some of her peers. Some of their so-called problems were just so ridiculous, so easily fixed! She said a silent prayer daily for Jahnava, though. Without her, Manny felt she'd have been driven even crazier.

          She brewed in her own self-pity, enjoying the view. Manny thought of how weak she was, how fragile. Almost like Valerie.

          Manny stopped playing with the fresh bruise on her wrist. She just lay there as if frozen in time.

          "Weak," she whispered, realizing the truth in her words. "I'm just…_weak_."        

          Manny sat up, her mind racing.

          Her whole life had been one giant game of finding someone more dominant than she to control her. She hadn't been finding friends, she found keepers. People who wouldn't mind if her will was lacking, because they'd be strong enough to carry two. 

          _It's not about friendship,_ Manny thought. _It's about control_.

          When she was in kindergarten, she had latched onto the only kid who stood up to the bully. The next year, she went straight for the bully. Friendship after friendship was some pathetic self-destructive cry for help. Emma was strong, but it wasn't in the way Manny had always looked for. Emma was a mistake, an accidental friendship. 

          _It isn't about them. It's about me. _

          "Me," she whispered, trying to roll the word around in her mouth to get a taste for it, a feel for its honesty.

          "I have to know myself before I know others," she said. "Me. I have to get to know _me_ first."

          She felt her lips twist into an involuntary smile. She finally understood! The root of her problems wasn't Theresa, or Emma, or Paige, or her sexual orientation. It was that she never looked into a mirror and _liked_ the girl looking back at her.

          And in her moment of clarity, Manny knew she'd have to tell the group tonight. Even if the euphoria didn't last, she had to let everyone else know. She understood, if only for a moment.

          "Mrs. Santos?" Emma asked into the receiver. Her longing for Manny had long before turned into desperation. She had been calling the Santos home daily, if not to visit Manny, but as if she called enough Manny would answer the phone, and everything that had happened would be void. 

          "Hello, Emma," Amada replied. She sounded tired. 

          "I'm sorry…am I wasting your time again?" she tried to sound light. She knew her voice betrayed her nervous energy.

          "They say she's making progress. If she keeps at it, we can see her this Saturday."

          Emma was stunned into silence. Minutes that felt like decades passed.

          "Emma?" Mr. Santos finally asked, jolting her out of the overwhelming surprise her best friend's mother just hit her with. 

          "I'm sorry, but did you say Saturday? Um, I was wondering…I mean, if it's okay…uh…"

          "You're welcome to come, Emma. I couldn't well let you stay behind, not with how concerned you obviously are."

          "Oh, thank you! Thank you! I'll see you Saturday, Mrs. Santos!"

          "Goodbye, Emma."

          "Good—" Amada had hung up. Emma didn't care. As uncomfortable as the Santos' made her, she would spend eternity with them if it meant at the end she'd see Manny, finally. 

          Emma squealed. It turned into laughter. And at the bottom was an icy patch of pure terror at what was to come. 


	33. Faithfully

Chapter Thirty-Three: Faithfully

          Manny was nervous. She had received word that her parents were on their way, Emma in tow. Mr. Boyd commended her on her change of attitude. Her euphoria had died after her realization, but the message was still clear.      

          But knowing she had to be alone with herself didn't mean she couldn't see Emma. She hadn't even known the willowy blonde had been searching for her. 

          They hadn't had any contact for over two weeks. It felt like forever. She felt like she should be better presented for this momentous occasion.

          "Hey, kid. How's tricks?" a casual voice asked her. Manny barely acknowledged it.

          "Go away, David," she said, too lost in her thoughts to even sound interested. Wanting David away had become an instinct for Manny. He disturbed something inside of her, something still whole, or enough so to realize his wiring had been frayed. He offended something inside of her. He had the eyes of a killer.

          She could practically _feel_ his amusement. "You know what they say, babe. Every dyke like you is just waiting for a _real_ man to come along. So, what do you say? Want me to be your real man?"

          Manny glared at him. "If I didn't like chicks already, _babe_, that thought alone would convince me."

          David sneered in reply. "Someday, you'll get what's coming to you. All you slutty little bitches will."

          Manny smiled, the flickering rage in her eyes in contrast with the sarcasm-laced curve of mouth. "And this is why you're going to rot in here forever. I'll be sure to send you a postcard."

          "Bitch," he snarled.

          "After a while, it sorta loses its ring. Now if you'll excuse me, _I_ have company," Manny retorted, standing up. She walked away as briskly as possible, without being obvious.

          If he said anything else, she didn't hear it.

~

          "Have you met this Theresa girl?" 

          Emma sat in the back of the Santos' car. She shifted uncomfortably. They had been on the road nearly half an hour. The Santos' promised they were almost to Manny. Light conversation shimmered in and out of the car. No one felt like talking. The silence was deafening, the noise was like nightmares sliding along Emma's skin. She was finding herself liking Manny's parents less and less.

          "I know who she is. We don't talk," Emma replied quietly. Javier said nothing for several more minutes.

          "That little…little _puta_ destroyed my daughter."

          Emma bit her lip. She didn't know how to respond to him. She didn't approve of Theresa, or Manny's opinion of Theresa. Theresa Scannel was the closest Emma had felt to hate in her lifetime. But after weeks of pondering, she didn't blame her as much. And Emma didn't want to debate with Javier Santos about whether or not it was Manny's brain, Theresa's influence, or the Santos' themselves that caused all of this to happen. Or if it was Emma herself.

          "You tell her, Emma. Tell her if I ever see her around my Manuela, she will wish she was never born."

          Emma felt her eyes widen involuntarily. _Is he talking about…_killing_ her?_

Emma decided he couldn't be. That was just too crazed, too alien. Even for someone has frightening as Javier Santos.

          "Where are they?" Manny whispered, anticipation overwhelming her. She had managed to avoid David so far, but if he realized her guests weren't coming, she'd never hear the end of it.

          "I'm sure they're on their way," Jahnava replied.

          Manny glanced at her friend. Jahnava was casually hanging around Manny, probably to meet her friend and family. Manny wasn't sure she should admit to having made a friend here. _They'll just think she's a new Theresa for me to hang onto_, Manny thought dismally.

          She liked Jahnava. She really did. But she was unsure about making attachments to someone who was in a mental hospital.

          Manny realized she was biased. It was silly. Silly to be ashamed of befriending someone who didn't even have half the issues that Manny did. Compared to Manny, Jahnava was the poster child for mental health.

          _This is ridiculous_, Manny decided. She smiled at her friend. Jahnava smiled back.

          "If you want to see them alone, I understand," Jahnava said, as if hearing Manny's thoughts.

          "Maybe," Manny replied. "I don't know."

          Jahnava shrugged. "Either way. I can be your backup, or your hindrance. It all depends on you."

          "Thank you," Manny said. 

          Jahnava smiled at her. "I'll see you later," she said, walking away.

          Manny watched her, gratefully. She didn't want to be rude, but she didn't want Jahnava there when Emma and her parents first entered the hospital. Maybe she'd introduce Jahnava to Emma later, if her parents would let Emma and Manny talk alone.

          She didn't want to see her parents. She wanted to see her Emma.

~

          Emma and the Santos' were buzzed through the hospital doors. They were walking towards the final double doors, behind which would be Manny. She was nervous. She didn't know if Manny would be the same girl she always knew.

          Her mind raced as he doors loomed closer and closer. She wasn't sure she wanted to be here. 

          She knew she didn't want to be here.

          But she had to. She had to see Manny for herself, make sure she was alright.

          The doors opened.

          Emma paused. Her mouth was agape. Standing there, staring right back at her, was Manny. Her long lost Manny. Her hair was patchy and strange. Her dark circles had dark circles under her eyes. Her eyes were bloodshot. She looked awful, and still, Emma found her stunning.

          Tears welled up in Emma's eyes. If only she could have helped her friend.

          Emma stepped forward, cautiously.

          Manny gave her a small smile.

          That was all it took. Emma opened her arms and hugged her friend harder than she ever had, or ever would again. And she knew now, finally, that Manny was real.


	34. Cruel to be Kind

Chapter Thirty-Four: Cruel to be Kind

**Tears stung Emma's eyes as she clutched Manny in her arms**. She held onto her friend until Javier cleared his throat. Emma reluctantly let Manny go. Manny gave Emma a shy smile.

"If you're done," Javier seethed.

Emma looked at him. She wanted to reply scathingly, but she knew he was her ride home. He could, and probably would, leave her here to fend for herself. She was as reluctant to be polite to this horrible excuse for a father as she was to end her embrace of Manny.

"Oh, baby," Amada said, tears streaming from her eyes. She rushed towards Manny, who took a step back. Emma could see it was automatic, but Amada stopped. She saw the hesitation for what it was. Manny still feared her mother.

Javier scowled. "We've come all this way, the least you can do is hug your mother. Or is Emma the only one you care about now? Hm? Did she raise you, Manuela?"

"Dad, stop," Manny replied.

"Or what? You'll cut your precious hair?"

Manny's face grew red with anger. She opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by an all too familiar snide voice.

"So, this is the little dykes parents, hm? Man, you guys sure screwed that bitch up."

Manny closed her eyes. "Go away, David."

"What? I just wanted to see who fucked you up so badly, baby. Damn, I can see what went wrong now."

Javier glared at the boy, his hands shook with rage. "What did you say?"

David laughed, full-throated. "If I were you, I'd get a new daughter, stat. Unless you're too old to take care of your wife, that is. Mmm, I think I could take one for the team," he said, looking up and down Amada.

Javier took the two steps distance between David and himself and pulled David up by his collar. "I am your elder, and you will show me some respect!" he growled.

A flash of surprise crossed David's eyes, but they soon cooled down. "Elder, huh? You ain't kidding."

Javier threw David down. He hit him over and over, taking all of his rage over Manny out on the young man.

Security was called. It took three large men and one female nurse to pull Javier off of David, who screamed about pressing charges. Blood was trickling from his mouth. The nurse ushered him off to be looked at. Javier was manually thrown from the ward, screaming for Amada and Emma to follow if they wanted a ride home.

Emma looked at Manny. Manny was smirking. Emma looked back to the chaotic scene, and coughed in her hand so no one could hear her struggle not to laugh.

**Emma sat across from Manny**. They were in Manny's room. Valerie had kindly vacated once the two girls came in. Emma was sitting on the other patient's bed.

They had spent an uncomfortable amount of time with Manny's mother, where Amada danced around Manny's illness for what seemed like hours. Occasionally she would look at Manny like all the problems of the world were her fault. It made her feel worse.

Mrs. Santos decided to let Manny and Emma speak alone for a time. She was off somewhere, talking to doctors and nurses as far as the girls knew. Checking up on Manny.

So far, all they had done once alone was stare at one another. Manny too blind to see Emma's pain, Emma too caught up in her thoughts to verbalize anything real.

"So," Manny whispered.

"So."

They couldn't meet each other's eyes for more than a mere moment. Each girl would shift, kick their feet, play with their shirtsleeves. Anything to avoid that agonizing look into one another's eyes.

"Did you give Theresa my letter?" Manny finally asked.

Emma's eyes flashed quickly in anger, and hurt. "Yeah," she replied curtly.

Confusion washed over Manny. She couldn't understand why Emma would be angry. Not now, not after everything that Manny had endured. She was unable to see the ache she caused in others, unless as a tool to make herself feel worse.

Manny's cheeks turned pink. The silence thickened in the room.

"That thing with dad was kinda funny," Manny said.

"I don't get it," Emma replied absentmindedly.

"Dad? Oh, he's just a big cranky Neanderthal—"

"Not that," Emma replied. "I don't get how…how _blind_ you are."

"What?" Manny demanded. "What makes you think you can talk to me like that?"

Emma's eyes slowly shifted to meet Manny's. "I've earned it, Manny."

Manny stood up, anger chasing all of her reservations away. "Don't give me that, you know damn well what I've been going through! You can't—"

"_Manny_! You're not _listening_! And be quiet or the nurses might come in."

Manny sat down, crossing her arms. "Fine. What?"

"You promise to hear me out?"

"Yeah, yeah, what the _hell_ do you want from me?"

Emma breathed in deeply. "This is hard…"

"What _isn't_, Emma?"

Emma held up her hand. "You promised you'd listen, and you _damn well_ better or there is _no point_ of me being here!"

Manny stared at Emma, a little surprised. She waited a moment before sighing, "Okay, okay, I'll listen."

Emma nodded at her. She paused, causing Manny to shift nervously.

"For years, we've been friends. _Best_ friends. I can't even remember a time when we weren't. You're in all my memories, Manny. But when it mattered, when it _really_ mattered, you shut down. You shut me out. You took everything you felt and locked it away. I watched you self-destruct but could do nothing to stop it. You wouldn't listen. And now look at you.

"I wanted to be there for you, but you wouldn't let me. With Craig, with Theresa. All of it. You've made a big mess of things, and maybe I didn't try hard enough. But maybe I couldn't try any harder.

"Manny, I love you. But you can't keep doing this. You can't lock yourself away and pretend I was never around.

"When you ran away, I sat for hours willing you to call, to write. Anything. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep.

"And when you came home, when I finally got that letter, I was so excited. I knew you missed me too.

"But it was a lie. It was for _her_. You used me to get to her, used our friendship to further your own agenda.

"It hurt, Manny. It really hurt. I can't pretend I know what you're going through, but I can tell you that you've made a big mess of yourself.

"And I know, that's probably not the best thing I can say to you, but _you did this_, Manny. You had a hand in it, and you can pretend all you want. You know its true as much as I do.

"I wanted to help you. I wanted to pretend everything was okay, for you. So you could come home and feel safe, because I was still there, like some sad rock you haven't bothered to kick away.

"But I can't pretend things are alright. I can't be in denial. You're sick. But it's not just that," Emma swallowed, trying to form the right words. She looked Manny directly in the eye and said, "You are a stupid, selfish bitch."

Manny's jaw dropped.


	35. We Didn't Start the Fire

**Chapter Thirty-Five: We Didn't Start the Fire**

****

Emma and Manny looked at one another. They weren't even on opposite sides of the same room, but for their understanding of one another they could be on opposite sides of the planet.

Manny was hurt. Emma's words had slashed into her, like they were meant to do. She felt a certain bitterness she didn't want to feel towards her friend, the only friend she had left. But she could also see something she hadn't been able to before.

Emma was right.

Manny had spent so much time blaming other people, she forgot all about personal responsibility. She forgot that she was supposed to control at least factions of her own destiny.

But there it was, like a slap in the face. Emma could have just slapped Manny; it felt the same. A wound she had been trying to heal inside herself was torn open again, but Manny understood why it had to happen. She hadn't been healing herself with the truth. It was lies. It was all lies. The problem was, Manny felt more comfortable with pretty lies than ugly truths.

"Em," she whispered slowly, tears glistening in her long dry eyes.

Emma's face was supposed to be neutral, but it almost looked like a scowl to her friend. Manny felt tears cascading quickly down her face.

"Em?" Manny repeated as if it were a question of the utmost importance. A certain feeling of solitude filled her. It was as if Emma had left the room. Manny's heart beat a little bit faster. With each passing second, she was more and more alone.

Manny chewed her lower lip. Her pounding heart began to ache with the stress. How could she? How could she speak with such harsh words and then recede into her own thoughts so completely? Manny felt betrayed. Was Emma lost? Where had she gone? _Where was Emma_?

Manny's tears were endless. Her sorrow overwhelming. Emma had to hear her! She couldn't leave her now, now that everything was bleeding inside her.

Emma's eyes locked into Manny's. What felt like hours had only occurred in seconds. Time hadn't stopped, it just slowed down.

Manny's throat constricted. She wanted to shriek, but felt herself unable. "Emma," she whispered hoarsely. "Please, Emma."

"What?"

Manny jumped. Emma's voice had cut through. It echoed throughout the room. Time sped up again. Manny looked at Emma. She had never felt so relieved in her life.

"Is it wrong?" Manny whispered.

"Is _what_ wrong?"

Manny felt nervous. She thought Emma should know already. She concentrated on breathing for a moment.

"This…thing," Manny said slowly. "This _thing_ that's inside of me. Is it wrong?"

Emma sighed impatiently. "You have to be more clear."

"How can you not know?" Manny demanded, tears streaming down her face. "How come you can't _feel_ it? Not like I do! How is it that something can be _in_ me like this…take over my everything…and you can't even tell it's there?"

Sobs thrashed through Manny's body. Her heart collapsed. Her eyes flooded with tears. She doubled over in a pain Emma Nelson could never understand. Her entire body was torture.

"It's broken, Emma! Everything inside of me is broke, and _you can't feel it_," she accused. "Why can't you _fix_ me? You're supposed to be my _best friend_, but you can't even put out this fire that I _don't want inside me_!"

Emma went to Manny, her arms wide. Concern flushed her face.

"Manny, shh. Everything will be alright, Manny," Emma said, rocking her friend back and forth. "Everything will be alright."

"How do you know?" Manny sobbed into Emma's shirt.

"Because it has to be."

**-X-**

Manny was determined. She had been for three weeks. Ever since the first time Emma had visited her. She had fought with new strength to get out of the hospital.

She flew around like a mad butterfly. Every time her group met for therapy, she shredded open her wounds, and stitched herself back together that very night. She talked to doctors. She socialized with Jahnava and Valerie. Even David couldn't bring her down, though he tried and tried.

Every move she made was calculated. She felt something missing, but she never let on. She'd smile. She'd laugh. She'd charm her way right out of the door if she had to.

Emma continued visiting, whenever she could. Sometimes she couldn't even get a foot in the door, but she always tried. She was even more consistent than she had ever been in her futile fight to save the planet.

Manny's relief in having Emma was more than she ever dreamed of. They couldn't be closer even if they had been born identical twin sisters. Emma was Manny's rock. Manny knew Emma would always be there.

But she was careful, oh-so careful. Centuries could pass in an instant if she closed her eyes too long. The world could cease to be.

And the opposite was true, too. Time would stop and all of Manny's work would be meaningless. Her fear still screamed through her brain at night, but she could pretend it wasn't there. She could live the perfect lie again, if only they'd give her the chance.

She needed to be free.

Manny suspected that Emma could feel the twinge of unease that constantly thrummed through Manny's body. Though if Emma knew, she never spoke of it. Manny was grateful. Verbalizing her doubt, her shortcomings, could only damage her quest for freedom.

Manny tried for serenity in a world of chaos, but it was never pure. But that was okay. No one knew.

No one knew.

_No one knew_.

Manny could taste her freedom. She knew her day would soon arrive. She knew she'd be _free_.

**-X-**

"Your progress seems excellent," the doctor smiled warmly.

"Thank you," Manny replied, subdued. Her fate lay completely in his hands. His big, nervous hands. He was unschooled. So young. Manny felt power.

He seemed nice enough. As fresh and shiny as a new penny. Probably in his early thirties, but he seemed younger. Like a peer. Manny felt a little smug. She knew this was her day. It had to be. No one could deny her that.

"So," he said, clearing his throat. "I have some questions for you."

"Yes?" Manny asked, smiling brilliantly. Her hair had been cut short. She missed the length of it, but at least it wasn't an uneven, partially bald mess. It was good he hadn't seen her like that. This way she had all the information, and he was struggling in the dark. Her arms were covered in long sleeves. He might have it on paper, but she wouldn't let him see the real thing. He didn't see her worst. She had the power.

"Do you feel any compulsion to injure yourself?"

Manny thought for a moment. What should she say? Yes? No? Too much so-called progress and they'd surely smell a lie. "Not really," she concluded.

"Not _really_," he repeated.

Her smile never wavered. "If I said absolutely no, it would be a lie. If I said yes, I'd still be lying. It's about ninety-five no, five yes, and I like to think I'm getting better all the time."

"Hmm," he said, jotting down notes.

Manny's heart fluttered. She felt nervous. Was five percent too much? Too little? She had to get out of this place!

"What about home life? Do you think you're prepared to handle it?" he asked, flashing a toothy grin.

_I can't _believe_ it. Is he actually _flirting_ with me? _"As you know, _doctor_," she said pointedly, trying to remind him of his station, "my parents had to go to court. Once people had found out what they had been doing to me, they lost 'the _privilege_ of having a daughter'," she quoted.

"Yes," he interjected, writing again.

"I'd be staying with friends," Manny concluded.

"The Nelsons?"

"Simpson-Nelsons," Manny corrected.

The doctor chuckled. "Of course. Silly me."

Manny breathed in, both deeply and quietly. He made her uneasy.

"What about your lady friend? Theresa, is her name?"

Manny shifted uncomfortably. She couldn't stop herself. Even the girl's name was overwhelming. "I think that if I saw her…I could deal," she said quietly. "Things will never be alright with us, but maybe with time…they can be okay."

"There's a difference?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said softly, almost a whisper. "To me, there is."

"Okay," he said, his smile a little brighter. Manny felt herself growing disgusted. Was she imagining it? After all, he was only _smiling_…

"I'm going to be honest with you, Miss Santos. I don't believe a word you say." His eyes grew cold.

Manny opened her mouth to protest, shock surging through her. "But—"

He held up a hand to stop her. "_But_ I'm not the only one who gets a say here. Some of my colleagues believe you've been rehabilitated. Unfortunately, most of them who have examined you. It's been decided hat you'll have a time of reprieve. You must report here once a week—every Thursday—at six o'clock sharp. If you're late even _once_, you'll be picked up and sent right back here _immediately._ Those are our terms," he said, shutting his notebook. "And remember, I'll be watching you."

**-X-**

"_Manny_!" Emma shrieked in excitement. She raced towards her friend. Tears welled in both the girls' eyes, and Manny met her halfway. They clung to each other with a ferocity rivaling only Emma's first visit.

Christine Nelson, Emma's mother, quickly caught up with the girls. She latched onto both, feeling herself begin to cry as well.

"H-h-hi, Ms. Nelson," Manny managed to stutter out as the trio separated.

"Oh, baby, look at you!" Christine said, kissing Manny's forehead.

Manny felt a blush rise in her cheeks. She lowered her eyes to the floor. "I'm afraid I'm not much to look at these days, Ms. Nelson."

"Don't be ridiculous. You're just as beautiful as ever," she smiled. "And, please, call me Spike," she said, referring to a nickname and a term of endearment she'd had since high school.

"Okay…Spike," Manny said, unsure of how the name sounded in her own voice.

"We have a lot to catch up on," Spike said warmly. "But first, let's get the hell out of here."

Manny grinned. Sounded good to her!

**-X-**

"I wish you came to me," Spike commented as she wove the car through the busy streets.

"_Mom_," Emma complained. "It's not like she's _your_ daughter."

"I know, Em. I just wish there was something…_anything_…I could have done."

"You're doing plenty now," Manny reassured her. "More than I ever expected from anyone."

Spike was quiet. "It kills me, what you went through. And your parents! To think…all this time…"

"_Mo-om,_" Emma whined.

"It's okay, Em," Manny said from the backseat.

"No, no. I'm sorry," Spike said, stealing a quick glance at Manny in the rearview mirror.

"Don't be," Manny said quietly. "They were no good. It's okay for you to think it."

Spike felt her eyes water again. All that Manny went through…and her parents…and Spike's own daughter had been exposed to those monsters…! She was terrified that someone like that had been under her nose this entire time.

The rest of the drive was mostly in silence. Emma seemed half-determined to break it with idle chitchat, but Manny was unresponsive. _And it's no wonder_! Spike thought.

Manny squirmed in her seat. _This ride is taking forever_, she thought moodily.

But finally, after what had seemed like days, Spike Nelson said the two words Manny had longed to hear for so very long.

"We're home!"


	36. Candle in the Wind

**Chapter Thirty-Six: Candle in the Wind**

****

"Are you sure you're ready?"

Manny looked up, surprised to see Emma's mom peering down the stairs. Manny and Emma shared the basement bedroom that had been created once Jack Simpson-Nelson was born.

"It's been two weeks. I think if I don't do this now, I'll lose my nerve forever," Manny called out to her.

"Okay," Spike said hesitantly. "If you're sure. But if you change your mind, call me and I'll come get you."

"Thanks," Manny replied. Spike waited, as if she wanted to say more or expected Manny to. Finally she turned around and left the doorway. The door was still open.

Manny looked around her. Clothes were strewn all over her side of the room. Compared to Emma's side, it looked as if a prejudiced tornado had struck. She sighed. She didn't think the Simpson-Nelson's appreciated her clutter, but they never once complained. Everyone was tiptoeing around her feelings, and she was tired of being babied.

Emma didn't go to school most of the time. Mr. Simpson talked to Mr. Raditch about her frequent absences, and he had surprisingly agreed that under the circumstances, it was best that Emma stayed and protected Manny from herself. She always did her homework on time, and made sure that Manny did as well. She was responsible, and trusted. Manny wished that she could have the same predisposition to reliability that her friend had.

But today was the day. The day Manny had been both longing for, and fearing with all the strength inside her.

The day that she was going to go back to Degrassi.

She knew it would be horrible. People would _look_ at her. They'd remember. There would be whispers and declarations of false sympathy, and Manny dreaded every minute of it.

But she had to be strong. She had to face her fears, or she'd soon turn into a neurotic shut-in. She'd be the one children whispered about as they passed her home each day. Manny didn't want that. She wanted to _live_.

She didn't know which made her more apprehensive—the promise of false sympathy, the torment of casual cruelty, or the delicious torture of seeing Theresa Scannel again.

Manny's self-loathing reached new heights whenever thoughts of Theresa crossed her mind. She buried her head in her pillow in shame. She'd cry out, whimper, scream. She'd hit the walls. She'd do anything to take Theresa off of her mind. The thoughts were nearly crippling. Manny hated to think of her, hated it more than anything else in the world.

But her thoughts always wandered there. Even when she wasn't thinking about her, her thoughts would switch to how glad she was that she wasn't, and it would all be over. Manny knew with absolute certainty that for the rest of her life, she'd feel this burning hole of despair whenever she heard the name Theresa.

And it wasn't just that. In her obsession, Manny had somehow corrupted the life of Theresa, too. She knew they'd never forget each other. But they'd always want to. She knew that when something had happened to the extremity that her interaction with Theresa had, you'd be forever connected to that person.

She wanted to sever the ties forever. She didn't want to see her again.

But that was what had to be done. And on some level, Manny knew that it wasn't just because she went to the same school. And it wasn't because she had formed such a twisted idea of love for the girl.

She would never be healthy unless she could face the one girl she damaged the most.

Manny stood up. She squared her shoulders and walked up the basement stairs. Emma, Spike, and Mr. Simpson were all waiting, all staring at Manny Santos.

She gave them a small smile. It was time.

**-X-**

"So I see your little girlfriend is back," Paige said, pushing herself off of the locker she had been leaning on.

Emma stopped walking. She faced Paige. "Does it make you happy to destroy lives?" she asked.

Paige snorted. "_Destroy lives_? Melodramatic much, hon?"

"That seems to be what you want to do," Emma pointed out.

Paige rolled her eyes. "Emma, if someone's very life can be destroyed by little old me, then they're not worth much to begin with. Regardless, you need to lighten up."

"And you think that attacking my best friend is the way to do that?" Emma asked sarcastically.

Paige smiled. "Your peace isn't my problem."

Emma glowered at her. She couldn't comprehend how someone could be so horrible. And for what? What was Paige trying to prove? "You're such a jerk," Emma seethed.

Paige smirked. "Why don't you go write an editorial about it, hon?"

An anger Emma never knew welled up inside her. She thought of Manny, poor Manny, who had just wished for Paige to listen and understand. She had confided in Paige when she wouldn't even talk to Emma. That hurt Emma, that Manny would trust someone so disreputable over her. And look how Paige repaid her trust. She threw it back in her face. Emma began to shake, and she could only think of one way to rid herself of this horrible hateful energy that was building to a point of explosion.

Emma slapped Paige. Her head reared back, her long blonde hair creating a curtain she peered through in surprise.

"What do you—"

"You know what? Shut the hell up. I don't want to hear your shrill little voice any more," Emma glowered. She walked away, a large piece of herself feeling satisfied, but with that thread of fear of retaliation.

Paige watched Emma stalk off in awe. Her face throbbed. She put a hand to it apprehensively, and sucked in her breath in pain. She took her hand out, and looked at it. Blood. She was bleeding.

_That little wench was wearing a ring!_ Paige realized.

Down the hall, Emma turned the small band on her right ring finger around so that the jewel was no longer on the palm side of her hand. She smiled.

**-X-**

Manny stared. It was as if time both slowed down and sped up. Everyone around her was moving at an inhuman pace. Everyone but herself and the pretty auburn-haired girl down the hall.

Theresa Scannel.

Painful memories resurfaced. Her eyes squeezed together tightly, and she self-consciously patted her dramatically shorter, ugly hair.

Theresa, _her _Theresa, was right down the hall. She was so very close…and so very far away.

Manny had no idea it would be this hard to see her again. She thought she'd be better prepared for the ordeal. She didn't know which way to run. A strong part of her wanted to run to Theresa, and a stronger part wanted to run away forever.

Manny felt herself doing what she had done too much of lately. She was crying.

**-X-**

Theresa was not ignorant. She had seen the girl down the hall. The very familiar girl. It had taken mere seconds to recognize her. The face that would haunt her the rest of her life was staring down at her as if she were a lifejacket in the most horrible of storms. Theresa was afraid.

She couldn't really understand any of it. She hadn't meant to lead Manny on, if she even did that much. The concept of Manny's psyche was so alien to her. She knew without hesitation that Manny Santos was a deeply disturbed girl.

A piece of her longed to comfort the girl, to make her recognize that it had all been a silly misunderstanding. She wanted her life back, but she had nightmares every night. The school incident was still fresh in her mind, and she was petrified of a repeat performance.

_Please, please, just go away_, Theresa thought desperately. The nurture she felt wasn't nearly as strong as the terror, the reproach. _Oh, god, what do I do now?_

Theresa's eyes were watering. Manny's predicament had made her so lost. She stole a glance at the girl, but to her surprise and relief, Manny was gone. It was as if Theresa had imagined her the whole time.

**-X-**

Manny slammed the door. She held it closed with her body, breathing heavily. She felt as though she had been chased, but she knew it was unlikely. It was so hard. So incredibly hard. Theresa was there, right there. Right in front of her. Manny's eyes were wide in permanent shock.

_She saw me!_ _She knew I was there!_

Manny's fingers curled into her palms, and she dug her nails in as hard as she could. Rage and pain tore a shriek from her throat, and she felt her right arm swing wildly and claw into her left.

Manny closed her eyes. Her arm stung something awful, but she didn't want to see it. She slumped down onto the floor and covered her eyes with her hands. She couldn't hold back any longer. She sobbed and sobbed, finally falling onto the floor on her side, violent desperation tearing through her throat.

That was where she was when Emma found her, over an hour later.


	37. I Just Died in Your Arms

**Chapter Thirty-Seven: I Just Died in Your Arms**

****

Manny stared listlessly at the ceiling. Once Emma had realized Manny ran out, she left school. She found her on the floor, and helped her to get down into the basement. Manny could hear Emma upstairs. She heard the crashing of pots and pans, then the slamming of cupboards. Emma said something about making her chicken soup. Manny barely heard her.

Ten minutes later Emma walked carefully downstairs. She had a bowl on a tray, as well as a glass of water. Manny sat up, dejected.

"So what happened?" Emma asked quietly after several agonizing minutes of silence. She had been watching Manny eat, though to her it seemed as if Manny was doing it more out of habit than realizing the actions.

Manny stopped eating. She looked at Emma. Deep circles that were finally disappearing under her eyes were back in full force. Emma was surprised at how horrible the girl looked.

"I think you can figure it out," Manny said hoarsely, her voice almost monotonous.

Emma chewed on her lower lip. She wanted badly to say the name, but didn't dare for fear of turning Manny. "So it was…her?"

"Yeah."

"Did you…did you two talk?"

Manny snorted. "No. No, we'll never talk, I don't think."

Emma swallowed. "Maybe it would be better if you did."

Manny's head turned towards Emma at lightening speed, and she glared at her friend with such fierceness, Emma was taken aback.

"How can you even _suggest_ that?" Manny demanded.

"I'm only trying to help," Emma squeaked.

"Hmph. Some help you are," Manny said, falling back onto the bed. The soup spilled over onto her lap. She didn't care. Emma caught the water glass before it joined.

"Oh, that's horrible! You should go take a shower, and I'll change and wash your sheets."

"Why bother?" Manny asked.

"Because…you shouldn't sleep in cold soup."

Manny's face contorted. At first Emma thought she was going to scream, but to her surprise the girl burst into giggles. Manny laughed with a maniacal desperation. It was somehow worse than the screaming.

**-X-**

"I don't know what to do," Spike lamented. Emma had told her about the incident today. She didn't want to, but figured it was her obligation to let her mother know. They had been discussing it for the past twenty minutes. "Maybe we should call the hospital."

"Mom, no!" Emma insisted.

"Emma, she's a very sick girl…"

"Yeah, but we can't send her back _there. _It will _kill_ her! She hasn't even had a chance, and you want to _get rid of her_?"

"Em…" Spike protested.

"_No_! She's not like Shane, mom! We can save her."

"That is an entirely different situation, Emma!"

Emma's jaw was set, her eyes ferocious. "Exactly. And we are _not_ giving up on her!" she raged. Emma paced around the room, her anger and helplessness practically radiating off of her. She then turned to her mother, and her voice became quieter, more subdued. "Not like everyone else has," Emma whispered.

**-X-**

"So am I going back?" Manny asked, hardly aware if she cared or not anymore.

"No, not now," Emma replied.

Tears glistened Manny's eyes, as they had almost perpetually in what seemed like forever. "Thank you. But I'm not sure if it's the right decision."

"What do you mean?" Emma asked.

Manny looked at Emma, her eyes red with tears. "I don't think I was ready to be let go, Em. I think I'm supposed to be there still. Everything feels wrong out here. I wasn't gone for _that_ long. But it feels like...it feels like that's where I always was. Where I've been my whole life. And I don't think I'm ready to be without that."

"You're stronger than you think, Manny," Emma said. Her voice was emotionless, but Manny could tell she was fighting back an onslaught that could even rival her own.

"Am I? Am I really?" Manny asked. "I don't feel strong."

Emma looked at her. "You won't let yourself feel strong," she corrected.

"What does that mean?" Manny asked, her tone becoming more and more childlike with each word. Emma felt terror rise in her body. What was happening to Manny?

"You won't let yourself be strong, Manny, because it's so much easier to be weak. You feel wrong inside, but not because of anything you've said or done. You feel wrong because you're letting other people tell you that you're wrong. But this isn't about them, and it never was. You're only as weak as you allow yourself to be."

Manny felt so small, and anger surged through her body at Emma's words. "What do you know?" she snapped. "You've never felt this way."

"You're right," Emma said. "Because I wouldn't let myself."

"Oh, yeah? Do you really think you could control these feelings?"

"I think I could do better than you can."

"Emma! Why are you saying this to me? Can't you see I need comfort?" Manny demanded tearfully.

"I've tried, Manny. I've been trying. But that's not what you need. You don't need to be coddled. You don't need comfort. You need the truth. You're never going to get better if you keep lying to yourself. You think you're in touch with all these great, powerful emotions, but they are _manufactured,_ Manny. You're doing this to yourself."

"How dare you! How dare you question what I do and do not feel! You can't feel this, Emma! Just because you can't feel it, don't think it isn't there!" Manny yelled.

"Thus my point," Emma responded.

"Wh-what?" Manny asked, thoroughly confused.

Emma smiled, though it wasn't exactly happy. "You fight me when I question your feelings. You fight so hard to make me believe they're real. But, Manny, I already believe they are real. You're fighting the wrong battle."

Manny was surprised. _When did Emma get so tricky_? she thought. She shook her head. _She still doesn't know,_ Manny decided. _She doesn't know, so she'll never understand._

"Even if I don't feel something for myself, it doesn't mean I'm incapable of comprehending it," Emma said, almost as if she were reading Manny's thoughts. "Go ahead, be depressed. Wallow in your self-pity all you want. But don't try to tell me that you have no other choice. You're a fighter. If you would just set your mind to it, you'd find out that you're not so helpless after all. I just wish you'd listen." Emma stood up and left the basement before Manny had time to respond.

_Oh, what does she know_, Manny repeated inside her head, almost as if her insistence was a mantra. _She doesn't understand. She'll never understand. _

Manny's thoughts overwhelmed her, her inner self insisting that her situation was so utterly unique no one in the world would never realize her pain. And before she knew it, she had fallen asleep.


End file.
